Full text of "Pilgrim"
£j **$.* *
v\ Book ."1
■•-<,, *si .»■? > ' * m> mi» *ii * . M m>°~*
Plymouth, Mass., June, 1933
Published this year as a Senior Year Book
1932 THE PILGRIM STAFF 1933
Editor-in-Chief _..____-- :. . . Loretta Smith
Literary Editor - ' - Florence Armstrong
Assistant Literary Editor --------- Shirley Dutton
Business Manager - Kenneth Tingley
Assistant Business Manager .----.... Gilbert Andrews
Boys' Athletics - - - Enzo Bongiovanni
Girls' Athletics - Ruby Johnson
Art - - Margaret Whiting
Exchange Editor - - Jane Matheson
Assistant Exchange Editor - ... Leroy Shreiber
French Editor - EVELYN JOHNS
Latin Editor Iris Albertini
Alumni Editor - Miriam Gifford
Joke Editor - William Brewster
Assistant Joke Editor - William McPhail
School News Editor - Marjorie Belcher
Assistant School News Editor - - •■ Harvey Barke
Feature Editor ----- Dorothy Testoni
TABLE OF CONTENTS
History of Class of 1938 - 4
Parting Shots ----- .------..5
Last Will and Testament ------_-____ j_g
Class of '33 Movie Review .-- ....17
Class Poem --------------- is
Class Prophecy -------------- 19
Our Song Album -------------- 21
Favorite Sayings of Our Teachers ----------- 21
Wanted — An Explanation ------------ 22
On Jig-Saw Puzzles ------------- 23
At The Eleventh Hour ------------- 23
Work of the Storm ------------- 24
Dishes ---------------- 24
Willett Rainer Snow Reconnoiters ---------- 25
Treasures --------------- 25
The Old Maid Turns ------- - - - - - 25
And We Scoffed -------------- 26
A Message To Tell ------------- 27
The Blessed Toiler - -------- 27
Sans Cents ------ ...-__.__ 27
Well, I'll Be— -------------- 27
The Hands of Time ------- .... 28
The Epoch Maker -------------- 29
What a Night! ------------- 2 9
The Lake --------- - . 30
On Cape Cod - - - - - 30
UNDER THE WHITE CUPOLA ------ - - - 31
ATHLETICS ------------ - 33
French - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -37
Foreign Exchange -..----------38
Latin ----- - 39
CLASS SONG — The Last Chord - - - 41
ALUMNI NOTES - 42
MEBBE IT'S PERSONAL WE'RE GETTING - - 43
EXCHANGES ----- 44
THE ORACLE - - - - - 45
MICKEY MOUSE " 47
JOKES „ - . o „ - - « - *s
(Elans nf 1933
PVEN though loquacity and garrulity-
are common, there has been, and is,
no person who can, or who will, tell us
the why and wherefore of certain irre-
fragabilities. This being so, it has never
been explained why, on that momen-
tous and auspicious afternoon in Sep-
tember, 1929, the entrance of a goodly
number of Freshmen within the portals
of the Plymouth High School was not
more widely and more fittingly ac-
It being absolutely and undeniably
essential that the glory cast on the deeds
of our predecessors should not exceed
that of our class, the Freshmen, imme-
diately upon their arrival, set about
establishing a foothold in the shifting
sands of Reputation.
The presentation of interesting, as
well as instructive, assembly programs
won distinction and great praise from
all who saw them, and most pleasing
to our ears were those oft-repeated
words at a football game, "Put in the
Freshmen! We want the Freshmen!"
for even in those early days, the brawny
athletes of the Class of '33 were well-
known and recognized by the fans as
players of great promise.
When faced by a problem of finance,
we were undaunted, and as a result of
deliberation and careful planning, sev-
eral successful dances were conducted.
The Freshmen were also well repre-
sented in the subsequent issues of
"The Pilgrim" and at the Voodoo
Minstrel Night, which was a school
Thus were the first steps of the long
climb achieved and our first year in
High School passed happily and pros-
perously leaving us only pleasant mem-
And so it happened that, when we be-
came associated with the upperclass-
men, we were called Sophomores and
entered on our second year in High
School, little expecting to meet so close-
ly, tragedy, which stalked twice into the
midst of our fun and gayety and took
from us two of our classmates,
Florence Fraser, during the second year
and Marjorie Lafayette, who died in the
summer of her Junior year.
This was the last Sophomore Class to
be introduced to the intricacies of the
French language by Miss Ruth Baker,
for it was during our Junior year that
Miss Doris Carey began her work as a
French teacher in Plymouth.
Not to be outdone by members of the
faculty who presented "Adam and Eva"
to the theatre-goers of Plymouth, sev-
eral Sophomores, dramatically inclined,
joined other members of the school in
the production of "It Pays to Adver-
June brought us to the close of an-
other year and through the first half of
our Plymouth High School career.
As was expected, when we became
Juniors, the subject of a class ring was
of prime importance. Accordingly, after
long interviews with several salesmen,
and weeks of doubt and hesitancy on
the part of the committee, several rings
were chosen from which the class se-
lected the one that was to become the
Class of '33 ring.
The Junior Press Club, under the
direction of Miss Humphrey, kept the
papers supplied with news of school ac-
The Junior Prom was a success,
financially and socially.
Joe Querze organized the "Little
Symphony" and brought cheer to many
since he furnished music for our basket-
During this year, "Daniel Boone"
was presented. It was an outstanding
success, and a goodly number of the
cast were Juniors.
Again Dame Fortune smiled benig-
nantly on the Class of '33, and made our
Junior year a round of successful pro-
jects and pleasant memories.
We, entered our Senior Year, elated,
perhaps a bit inflated at our sudden rise
to such lofty heights, but before many
weeks passed, "'Tis true, 'tis pity, and
pity 'tis 'tis true," we discovered, much
to our chagrin, that we were still mere
Encouraged by a successful dance,
several Seniors aided in the production
of the Gilbert and Sullivan operetta,
"Pirates of Penzance," while Loretta
Smith, Alvin Borgeson, Geno Ferri,
and Howard Sherman, turning to legiti-
mate drama, took part in the Class Play,
Those people who attended football,
basketball, or baseball games in which
school teams played will acknowledge
the sportsmanship and good work of
those Seniors who were members of
(Continued on page 17)
Five feet tall,
Petite and small,
And Judy says,
"And that's not all."
There's music in the swaying
This lady'll play wherever
She also wrote the Symphony
For the class of '33.
Rose has several beaux,
Her supply is by no means
But it seems she has a favor-
The gentleman's name is
The pirates now once more
As in the days of yore,
For "Samuel" is on his way,
A pirate at her door.
Bob has hair which you'll
To be of lightest hue,
Each girl's ambition is to be
Possessor of his "queue."
Kere's an interesting chap,
He's never very busy,
But, Elio, please tell us
What you'd do without that
He's pleasingly indifferent
To all the maidens fair,
Perhaps he doesn't like
Or maybe doesn't "dare".
Our "Tid" is a jolly sport,
She has a taking way,
So watch your step, male
She'll break a heart some
Now, George, we're sure you
That it really is a sin
To keep Room 10 awaiting so
While you come straggling
"Bergie" is a quiet lad,
A fact he won't disguise,
He's going to be a doctor,
And a good one, we surmise.
Oh, how this lady studies her
Long on her wisdom, long on
her looks —
We think of her always in
terms of her charms,
A number of papers and
books in her arms.
A perfect little dancer!
Some day, if you keep on,
A prize cup you'll be winning
In some future marathon.
"Gilly" tries to kid the fair
Makes them think he doesn't
We've found out from other
That he favors yellow hair.
(Who can spell his name?)
He's the high school "Gable"
And he'll beat him at his
Through this year's Senior
Our class learned something
And we've decided, "Borgie",
Dramatic honors go to you.
'Tis said that in a ball-room
He rates an even A,
But then again in studies
He's not so good, they say.
What a sheik! — oh me, oh
Tall and lanky and lean,
Girls all sigh when he rides
In his red, wire-wheeled
To artistic persons
"Vic's" always a friend,
A helping hand she'll lend.
Just an old Chevy,
But boy, can it go!
When he's out to see "Evy"
Does he travel slow?
Here's a girl that's very
With studies as her daily
They say she has no thought
for men —
But we suggest she think
Frances goes to White Horse
She and "Scottie", that's her
With a girl like Frances on
White Horse Beach is all
Nando plays in football
And basketball, as well,
But what he does outside of
"Happy" perhaps will tell.
You must have loads of
With that curly, flying hair,
But still, if we could have
We'd cherish them with care.
You have often heard
Of "dancing feet",
Johnny's got 'em,
He's hard to beat.
Up yonder in a village
Just beyond South Street,
"Cappy" holds his interviews,
And any friend will greet.
No manly heart gives her
No one to make her say, "I
But she keeps dates, you
ought to know,
With Shakespeare, Byron,
Keats, and Poe.
Norma is a quiet lass
So attentive in her class,
Most industrious in her
A girl who's never known to
He has a cottage at Billing-
And almost lives up there,
He rides by in a big green
In a hurry to get somewhere.
Sits in a corner
All by herself,
A shy little elf.
Tiny's her name,
Short and cute,
Is always a "brute".
i t j,
We'd all like to have money,
A fact we won't conceal:
But it's a different kind of
To him that can appeal.
Our Adele does like the boys,
She's far from a beginner.
But how we wish that she
Her lipstick a little thinner.
We have often heard of
Who talk a "mile a minute,"
If entered in a contest,
Priscilla'd surely win it.
Hilton comes from Manomet,
A shy, retiring boy,
We think it's very safe to bet
That no one he'll annoy.
Why the sad youth over
Standing by yon door?
We've been told he darsd look
At a pretty sophomore.
Rosa's in for every sport,
There's nothing she can't do,
And in the town of Bridge-
There's a lad to whom she's
At basketball games or
'Twould be something very-
If "someone" looking for her
Couldn't find "Flossie" there.
She doesn't mix with girl
The same goes for the boys,
And that is why we wonder
What constitute her joys.
Pete — the heartbreaker!
Pete — the sheik!
Why is it girls throw them-
At his feet?
Ferri has a good voice
For crooning to the moon,
But, when he's singing to his
He says time flies too soon.
Fiocchi's quite a ladies' man,
In this he just rejoices,
And how these ladies listen
When he, his opinion voices!
To outward appearances
This lady's sedate,
But, if given the chance,
As a comedian she'd rate.
Buzzy, busy all the day,
Takes time out for foolish
And it's he we often see,
Talking to Bruna Gambini.
She always looks most prim
As she talks to Lenu,
We hope another loving pair
Will not end up in Reno.
Pete, the football hero,
Awoke with heart afire,
Now he's playing "Nero" —
We ask you, where's the
He may seem shy
And bashful, too,
But get him "going"
And watch out, you!
There's a certain Bailey lad
Who makes her heart so very
That frequently in history
Their secret notes they're
known to pass.
"Wanny's" so good-looking,
He's seen at every dance,
He teases girls outrageously
And holds 'em in a trance.
"A quiet lad," his friends all
As he gees about from day to
But he always has a ready
When his work is out of sea-
Charley wants some night
To manage without care,
But every time there's shoot
They'll say, "Sharley, vas you
"Got something to tell you,
We hear it every morn,
For it's "Io this," and "Io
Till noon, almost from dawn.
John Gavoni (or "Pro" to
What is it that he likes to
Oh, yes, to write or read a
But best of all he likes to
The real "art" of smiling
Is what we all need,
This being the case,
Norma's sure to succeed.
Watch him, girls, and do be-
He's not so tall
But though he's small,
He's quite a woman slayer.
"Edie's" quite a singer,
But to hear her we must go
To her church on Sunday
This girl is tall and very thin,
Where she leaves off the
Her specialty might be short-
But beauty culture gets her
She doesn't give opinions,
On that we'll all agree,
But in automobiles she has
a choice —
She prefers a Model T.
Dot's a wee bit bashful,
It seems so anyway,
Every time we see her
She hasn't much to say.
That Charlie will some day
No one's inclined to doubt,
If present sign-posts we may
He'll put them all to rout.
Phyllis, Jeannette, and
Tid and Lolly, too,
Would vou kindly tell us,
Which one "bothers" you?
Mary has no time to play
Because in Woolworth's
She works the afternoon a-
Keeping the evening to be
One day when we read the
The headlines will announce,
How William, hunting kan-
A great big bear did trounce.
"Sunshine's" always in his
When the football season's
When you mention pig-skin
Watch him grin from ear to
Time flies swiftly
But what does she care?
It's one minute of eight
Before she's in her chair.
Petite and sweet — that's
We've liked her from the
There's no denying, each
To steal our "Evy's" heart.
Ruby's quite busy,
She studies so hard!
Who gets her spare time?
The answer is "Card."
When Bill sees "Fran" walk
down the street,
Always looking prim and
His heart's been known to
stop and leap,
For he thinks that she is very
We like you a lot,
You're happy and gay,
Any more information
We'll get from Ray.
DORA La ROCQUE
Just wait 'til they play
"Here comes the Bride,"
For she'll be there
At Harvey's side.
We hear you like to be alone.
Say, what is this, a game?
But alone, or in a big crowd,
We'd like you just the same.
It's been said that Paul is
Yet as far as we can see,
He gets into little troubles —
Ask the teachers, they'll
Barb's a perfect sample
Of an "All-American Girl,"
She "goes" with fifteen dif-
And keeps each one in a
Ruth went away and left us,
For New York, she let us
But back she came arunning
To good old Plymouth town.
Moderate and friendly,
Nothing haughty there,
Jane is very sensible
And truly fair and square.
That she stands high there
is no doubt,
A budding suffragette,
And yet she has her domes-
tic side —
That she'll get what she
wants is our bet.
Tommy's out for basketball
With shoulders big and wide,
And that head of bushy hair
He's not inclined to hide.
Anna's always on the dot,
She's there to get your dime,
And when it comes to sports-
We'll choose her anytime.
This young lady will surely
A piano player like Pade-
We wish her luck — a happy
And some day soon of her
fame we'll hear.
Kenny isn't very big,
But regardless of his height,
If you like the saxaphone,
He'll play it for you right.
His long legs are, it seems to
An asset not to be surpassed,
If you're behind him in the
Watch the yards of shadows
This lady's just as pretty
As pictures she can make,
We wish her luck along the
Whatever path she take.
"Happy" dances, sings, and
She can play piano, too,
And now among her passing
( ? ) whims
She's finding time for love so
"Flossie" is a fine girl
With a smile for everyone,
And when she tackles any-
It's sure to be well dene.
A tall, young blond is
Who lives in Manomet,
And when it comes to dances,
"Fran" is there, you bet!
His father owns a cranberry
And you will some day see
"Nicky" and his little dog
Head of the company.
At school you're known as
A sociable type of maid,
But when the summer rushes
You become "Priscilla' staid.
Of these "men of few words"
We hear every day,
And our class has in John
One of these, anyway.
Barbara plays fine basketball,
As goalie in hockey she
But when the evening
For a certain Tommy she
Here's another singer
We'll not have next year,
But we hope that in the
On the air her voice we 11
Our orchestra leader's going
He's out for something
But maestro, when you get
Please don't holler, "Ready!"
Our Tote used to have a girl
And vowed to love her long,
Tho' he lost her — we dis-
"Margie's" still his favorite
John's our well-known usher
In uniform neat and smart,
We hope the feminine movie
Won't try to steal his heart.
We have often wondered
But never inquired
Why your tongue does not
Nor your jaws grow tired.
Why don't you wear a plaid
And a kilt for all to watch ?
For everyone in town, we
Knows you're a wee bit
Johnny's quite a he-man,
His voice his joy and de-
The reason he uses it often
Is to see that it's still all
Some days you're happy,
Some days you're blue,
Is Nino the person
That's troubling you?
His morning's boring
His evening's gay,
\/ho likes to play.
[da co-.Ties from SouLh Street,
A "tough" place so they say,
Yet there's nothing tough
She wasn't made that way.
That Russell is a farmer boy
Is very plain to see,
In tilling soil he finds much
"Wherefore art thou, Ro-
To her brother she will call,
When dressed to kill, she has
To grace the Cordage Hall.
Does he know his gas and
"Shell's" his middle name,
But when you see that flivver
He's playing another game.
We predict that Mr. Shaw
Really ought to study law,
We can tell he's very wise,
Look, and see it in his eyes.
Daring and pert,
That's "Fran" Shea.
A second Noah Webster
Is what this lad may be,
[f you want a definition,
He'll give it readily.
We seldom see this lad about
In town or anywhere,
We wonder what he does with
The time he has to spare.
Of course, he comes from
Where nicknames are galore,
We wonder if you ever heard
Him called "Hot-dog" before.
A dark-haired boy with a
Who's head is in a constant
Why, ev'ry night he climbs
To see a certain Sophomore
We'd like to say such fine
About a girl like you,
But we'll just wish you the
best of luck
In everything you do.
She has a very common
Not like herself, you see,
For she's a different type of
A real lady she will be.
Carlo's quite an artist,
His fame is bound to mount —
But we wish we could dis-
Just why they call him
Who is the blonde
You meet at night?
And we hear that singing
Is your delight.
Dot's an "ace" in studies,
In typing too, we know,
In sports she's just as
spunky — ■
But, Dot, why don't you
Ken, here's hoping your lungs
They'll be needed, we fear, in
Perhaps in selling "Class
Or blowing your horn some
As an example of a "one-girl
He surely takes the cake,
We hear of him most fre-
Asking Dora for a "break".
Greta Garbo of Hollywood
Plays many a leading part,
But this big blonde of
P. H. S.
Is our only American
Cora chums with Dora,
Is oft mistaken for her twin,
But what about this boy
Her affections he's out to
Of Edith we are envious,
For her face is very fair,
Her clothes are simply gor-
But her glory's in her hair.
Judy's won the victory,
His name's in P. H. history
With Romano, "Sparky," and
He really should achieve suc-
Surely our Eddie in music
Will find the same success
He hopes to find in Kingston
With the girl who means —
She's going to be a secretary.
Where — we do not know,
But, because she's always
Success with her will go.
You've given service to the
With fiddle, voice, and art,
We hope in life you'll play-
Another "leading part".
Two pretty eyes that look
And make all men rejoice,
But her spoken word can
never be heard,
Though she talks at the top
of her voice.
We heard a squeal the other
As if someone were dying,
We later found that Lino
A piece on his "sac" was try-
^ t **S(*l$M8BHmk^
Agnes was his first love,
But since that time, oh my,
Now he thinks he's some-
When he goes riding by.
You're rather good in music,
But you proved your skill in
When you won a contest
In which you took a part.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT
OF THE CLASS OF 1933
WfE, the dignified, distinguished, and
determined class of 1933, having
full testamentary capacity and being in
a munificent state of mind, do hereby
bequeath to our instructors, keepers, and
others who have borne with us through
our many trials (and in some cases con-
victions), such material things and bits
of advice as we deem necessary to the
proper operation of the school. Due to
the market crash in our freshman year
our bequests are in most cases limited
to our best regards.
To Mrs. Raymond : The hope that the
entering class of seniors will be adept
in the art of interior decorating. When
we visit Room Eleven several years
hence, we shall expect to find Persian
rugs on the floor, Rembrandts on the
walls, and the class reclining in easy
chairs. More power to her "Home
Beautiful" movement in the school.
To Miss Brown: A Fisher No-draft
Ventilation System to be installed in
Room Ten. We are still trying to dis-
cover the name of the senior who
brought a hot water bottle to class on
one cold morning.
To Mr. Bagnall : A chromium-plated
steel helmet to replace that felt fedora
which suffered untold tortures at the
hands of unscrupulous members of our
class. We sincerely hope that the new
"sky-piece" will not show heel prints.
To Mr. Shipman: We evacuate his
domain with the sincere hope that not
more than half of our class will return
as P. G.'s. It would be decidedly incon-
venient to hold classes in the halls and
To Mr. Fash : Two of the best rock-
ing horses in captivity. We know they
will be appreciated by the fellows who
hold down rear seats in next year's
To Miss Carey : We feel that we may
now freely admit that the only time we
really mastered those French nasal
sounds was when we had a bad cold
which hovered between bronchitis and
To Miss Wilber: May all Seniors in
the future absorb enough Latin to be
able to pronounce their class motto.
We don't dare hope that they will be
able to translate it.
To Miss Johnson: A half dozen of
Duke Ellington's latest phonograph
records to break the monotony of those
droning typewriting records.
To Miss Judd: A robot which will
automatically say, "Quiet, girls," or,
"Are you chewing gum?"
To Mr. Smiley: A can of "Kitty
Ration" to feed that anaemic-looking
cat, preserved in alcohol, which annually
makes its appearance in "bug" class.
To Mr. Young: A package of grass
seed with the suggestion that his class
in agriculture be delegated to grow a
little grass in that barren place on the
school lawn. Maybe we should throw in
a bottle of hair tonic, — for the lawn, of
To Mrs. Buck : In order to insure her
prima donnas against colds on the even-
ings of their debuts, we are leaving a
bottle of "Rem." Take Rem and get rid
of it. The correct time is twenty seconds
past eight o'clock.
To Miss Kelly: A room containing
desks with pointed tops. We realize
that they won't be very useful, but at
least no one can sit on them.
To Mrs. Swift: A liveried chauffeur
with a high-powered car. We under-
stand that her present driver seriously
considers leaving school at the end of
To Mr. Pioppi: We trust that the
classes to come may contain another
Querze who can play fiddle and piano,
and double in drums and bass.
To Miss Rafter: A set of mason's
tools to be used in the construction of
Parthenon and Acropolis with the pro-
vision that vinegar and plaster of paris
shall not be used in the building of same.
To Miss Locklin : The hope that next
year's "Are you a Genius?" test will dis-
close a budding Edison.
To Mr. Smith : An embroidered sign
reading "God Bless our Happy Home"
to be hung in Room 12 to provide a
"homey" atmosphere for next year's
Alumni Club. May the Ferioli and
Strocchi sign painting combination have
competent successors in the class of
To Miss Lang: A package of double-
action, superpotent cough drops.
To Miss Jacques: A large, pleasant,
room with a southern exposure in the
much-discussed new high school. We ad-
mit this gift has no tangible value but
our heart is right.
To Miss Hendry :Our appreciation
for teaching some of the fellows in our
class to bake biscuits. We consider this*
one of the greatest steps in self-defense
which has been taken in years.
To Miss Dowling: A safe-deposit
vault equipped with a burglar alarm in
which to keep those elusive drawing
To Mr. Mongan : An assistant to aid
in the preservation of law and order
after 12 :45.
To Miss Humphrey: May her Eng-
lish classes of the future be as well be-
haved as ours was. Notice to executor;
any persons laughing at this point shall
be cut off without a penny.
To Miss Coombs: A Western Union
messenger's uniform to be awarded to
the person who distributes notices next
year. (The rumor that we stole this
article from a clothes line has no foun-
To The Freshman Faculty: We
hope that after our graduation it will no
longer be necessary to use tear gas to
drive upper classmen from the strong-
hold of the freshmen.
To The Class 1934 : May next year's
senior class maintain that dignified
senior air which we possess. We sug-
gest that the tendency for senior boys
to escort sophomores to basketball
games and dances is most detrimental
to the aforementioned air.
To The Class of 1935 : May they en-
joy the same high opinion in the minds
of the senior teachers that the class of
'34 has had.
To The Class of 1936 : We hope that
by the time you are seniors most of our
class will have graduated.
All bequests contained herein are re-
ceivable through the executor, Mr.
Wolverton J. Wolverton, Second Vice-
President of the class of 1933.
Witnessed at the offices of Flywheel,
Shyster, and Flywheel, this thirtieth day
of March, 1933.
Frank N. Stein
Gilbert Harlow, '33
(Continued from page 4)
We have enjoyed four years under the
able eruidance of Gilbert Harlow, the
only president ever elected by our class.
Now Time writes the conclusion to
this chronicle and to the High School
career of the Class of Thirty-Three, but,
judging from the record of their past
achievements, who shall say that in
these years which stretch before us, not
minatorily but rather invitingly, the
members of this class will not be the
authors of deeds which some day may
be loudly and widely acclaimed?
Jane Matheson '33
CLASS OF '33 MOVIE REVIEW
The First Year The Lowly Frosh
No One Man Barbara Lewis
The Crowd Roars
At the Brockton Tournament
Five Star Final
"Dirty Dirt" or "This and That"
Secret Service —
Reporters for the Above
After Tomorrow Then What?
Odors from the Cooking Room
Girls Together Edythe and Sarah
The Last Mile May and June
In Conference Before 8 A. M.
The Ruling Voice
The Warden, Mr. Shipman
Platinum Blonde Bob Bartlett
Daddy Long Legs Bernard Parker
Too Busy To Work Mike Cavicchi
Silence In the Study Hall
Tabu Class Picnic
I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang
Donovan's Kid Flossie
Animal Kingdom Room 27
God's Gift to Women Pete Ferioli
He Learned About Women
Prosperity For the Seniors?
The Crooner Eddie Warnsman
It Pays to Advertise School Play
Just Imagine All 90's
Taxi Wadsworth Savery
Five and Ten Mary Harty
All Quiet on the Western Front
The Yellow Ticket
For "Pirates of Penzance"
Under 18 Most of Us
The Girl Habit Gilly Harlow
Classmates Never forget them
First Aid For Pete Gellar
Maker of Men Coach Bagnell
This Modern Age Class of '33
Secrets of a Secretary
Ask Evelyn Johns
Alias the Doctor Milton Berg
The Wet Parade On stormy mornings
Vanity Fair Girls' Drecsing Room
The Champ Kenneth Tingley
The Pay Off Class Dues
This is the Nignt Commencement
THEiiOTANY OF LIFE
■^>-THE HI S : ^O^t>W^MM ROOMER
>^\NDlI GAZED^TJnYA DEWTRENCWED t^RDEN QUITE STILt*
WHERE THfeffL 0WERSL50 VARIED, S&BRILLIANT, AMD GAY
HADE nLVA5>%JHAT WOULD BE A NKITTING BOUQUEH^
TOR ME TO POSSESS JWHEN I SETvOUlYYno PRESS
HY SUIT FOR THETAVOR CF^E^S\JCC€S6W
ON TlREH^^VfOF THE BREEZE CANE A SILVER tM$C&
TIY GHIU5-LET HE AID YOU IM P^KIISGjraUR^CHOl'cE' '
AS I EOLLOWED^THE ZEmY^EROnlWHjGriXl
NY GUIDANCE WOULEK:onE,/HE f3l^E < 50R^l\Y
'RED CLOVER nEAT^rY^LHD^feTRY/AND MIGHT Ta>%JGG
'THAT YOU GATHER MOPT>§>L%S^QMS OE TTIIS\p'
•AMD MERE 15 THE IVY EOR THE FRlETtBSHIP
'WHICH BRIGHTEN YOUR SORROW AND B
'BUT PAUSE HOT WHERE THOSE PLANTS DR
TOR EOLLY 10 FOUND IN THE WILD COLUMBINE
-WHILE FAITH WHICH WE HAVE IN ALMIGHTY GODO
TS SUGGESTED TO US BY THE PA05 ION FLOWER;
'CLOSE BY TUNES THE VINE OF THE DEADLY NIGHTS
'AND ALL FORMS OE FALSEHOOD ITS BEST TO EVADE .
?3E WISE IN YOUR CHOICE OE THE DRAB-LOOKING OAK
'AMD THE I INNOCENT CRO05 OF THE CANDY-TUFT '03 CLO
"HOSPITALITY LIES IN THE FIRST OF,
TM THE 5EC0ND, TNDFEERENCE OWGULD
(BY THIS THE, I N PUR5UIT OF NY 'GUipELTll
ALMOST ALL OR THAT GARDEN ANDBGTjj
"THOUGH 'TIS COLORED IN TONES' BOtL _
"YET GAYETY LIVES IN THIS LILY OE fW-„-
"NOW CUT A FEW 6TENS OFF THE GOLDE^RON
AT THE AGE-OLD ' BE CAUTIOUS ' Tpi/lSfWT "
"GAZE MOT SO LQNGWDN TTiEST RPIM^ofe.-fc
TOR INCONSTANCY'S SOMETHING THfTtBSNGS
"LEGEND TELLS US THAT PANSIESMEW
"WHICH WAS BROUGHT BY THE ANGELO FROM HEAt
THE BREEZE PAUSED, ALL WAS STILL, HY LESSON. WJA5 ENDEt
SO I TURNED NY FACE^TOTHIE PATH! WHIC^KveAei>^/<
OVER THAT STEEP AND ROCKY HILL; Jfolk^.'
WITH THE THOUGHT INNIND/l CAN, AND WILL!"
SO I ORRER TO YOU, GLASS OR THIRTY- THREE,
THIS SELEGT BOUQUET AS 'TLVA5 GHOSEN TOR N1E.
WITH IT YOUR WORTHINESS AAAY YOU DISPLAY
IN THE YEARS WHICH FOLLOW COMMENCEMENT DAY.
THE FUTURE |
"Hello, you lucky listeners-in of this
age of television. This is "Silent"
Kenneth Tingley, the mouthpiece of the
Allow me to acquaint you with the
many celebrities attending the Inaug-
ural Ball of President Peter Gellar, in
the year of our Lord, 1965 — Amen.
The stout gentleman who just entered
is none other than Ferdinando Massam-
iliano Guisseppe Fiocchi, the ex-Czar of
Golfdom. Times are so bad he now
carries clubs for three of his former ad-
mirers, Adele Cohan, Norma Govoni,
and Arlene Hall. Accompanying him is
that eminent veterinary, Professor
Berg, Charles Harlow, the new senator
from Manomet Heights, Ellen Young,
the famous evangelist, and her three
most famous disciples, Dorothy Hall,
Iolanda Govoni, and Mary Laurenti.
Peter Ferioli, the chainstore magnate,
(you've all heard of his Murray Street
Emporium) enters with his old cronies,
the Reverend Nick Fortini, and the
scion of the Mill Village Reform Colony,
Hold it — the old maestro, Joe Querze
(he's made quite a name for himself as
a handorgan player) wishes to make a
few announcements :
"Gentlemen and ladies, allow me to
present the new members of my Royal
Garlic Templars — Geno Michelwccio
Ferri, the gold-voiced bass; Leno Zani-
boni, our new fiddler (he always was
quite a boy at fiddlin' around) and that
talented little trombone player, Harriet
"Oke, Silent — on with the dance !"
"The first couples to take the floor are
"Codger" Davis, the "hosiery" king, and
his sixteen-year-old fiancee; the Right
Honourable Nando Bussolari, President
of the Slash'm and Gash'm Barbers'
Association, accompanied by Rosa Des
Lauriers. (How did he ever break loose
from the "Boss"?)
The floor is covered with swaying,
stumbling couples. There goes Charlie
Govoni, late canine apprehender (dog-
catcher to you) of Darby Landing, with
Bruna Gambini and Bud Beauregard,
guardian angel of the "Little House",
with Irene Balboni. I am told that Irene
has lost ninety-three pounds and that
she now tips the scales at only two
ninety-nine. Good work, Irene!
The first dance is over and we are
about to be entertained by Ida Scagli-
arini, "Sheba" Pimental, and Gerda
Peterson. They represent the cream of
Professor John Govoni's "Harlemites."
Do you follow me down the lobby?
From left to right, Charles Elmiron
Roth, keeper of the New Chiltonville
Zoo; his superintendent, Fred Gerety;
Evelyn Johns (she's still waiting for
that gold-digger, I beg your pardon,
clam-digger, Guy Brigida, to propose) ;
Gilbert Besse, famous for his vanities,
and a group of his charming girls,
Rosida Smith, Juliet Sgarzi, Alice Sav-
ery, Carolyn Pratt, and Arlene Knight.
John Prentice, of East Carver's Detec-
tive Department, is buying popcorn for
Edith Halberg, Ruth Haley, and Char-
The President hasn't come yet be-
cause he's in the nursery cutting out
paper dolls, but the Cabinet is here in all
its glory. You'll recognize all of them;
Manuel Silva, Secretary of State; John
Nickerson, Secretary of Labor; Frank
Cappella, Secretary of Agriculture;
"Mickey" O'Connell, Post-Master Gen-
eral ; Arthur X. Hughes, Attorney Gen-
eral; (he attained the position because
he took a course in Dorothy Testoni's
Correspondence School) ; Francis Pin-
ney, Secretary of Treasury; and Ber-
nard Parker, Secretary of War. The
other members of the Cabinet were dis-
missed because they wished to be so ab-
surd as to work for their money.
Ah, (so this is Africa!) — look up if
you want a tropical picture. That man
hanging from the chandelier, and dis-
playing his eighteen-inch biceps, is none
other Justin "Atlas" Walker, one-time
water boy of P. H. S. His wife, the
former Leah Alberghini, is nearly four
feet tall now. (She grows better in the
Seated at the farthest end of the lobby
are "Baby" Guidetti, Elio Barufaldi,
and Paul Lenzi, owners of the largest
chain of pool rooms in the country.
"Tote" Raymond, tiddley-wink champ,
is enjoying himself with Misses Sarah
Weild, Barbara Proffetty, Charlotte
Winkley, and Frances Burgess. "Tote"
is always doing something like that!
Last week he invited Ella Bernagozzi,
Rose Aldrovandi, Florence Donovan,
and Barbara Lewis, inmates of an old
maids' home, to go to a burlesque show.
Here comes Milo Cavicchi with his
pushcart. I buy his bananas every time
he has a fire sale, but they're so bad
that even the monkeys won't eat them.
The platinum blonde who is trying to
vamp Alonzo Canning is Edith "Wall-
flower" Walker. You'd think that she
would get over that at her age !
Cora Vickery, who plays opposite
Mickey Mouse, is here to-night with
Howard Sherman, inventor of the word-
This is some affair. Bud Hemmerly,
doorman of the White House, is swap-
ping jokes with "Mike" Mitchell. You
know, of Mitchell-O'Connell, Siamese
The celebrated orator, Romeo Sgarzi,
isn't here to-night. He's delivering a
speech to the pygmies of South Africa
on the Gold Standard.
Here comes Bill Ketchen, master of
Hello, Bill, won't you say something
"Yowzah, Yowzah, Silent. H'lo, every-
body who isn't here, 'How me to give you
the lineup for the show. The first
number will feature Frances Shea's
"Hot Cha Girls" in "The Dance of the
Ten Lamp-posts." In her chorus will be
Katherine O'Connell, Charlotte Burgess,
Bertha James, Victoria Brewer, Ruth
McMahon, Mary McLean, Jean Rushton,
Pauline Callahan, Aura Fortini, and
"While we're waiting for that to pass
off, we may as well listen to the Moaning
Quartet, featuring Eddie Warnsman,
Tohn Santos, Peggy Whiting, and Jennie
Provinzano in their sensational number,
'Moanin' Low.' (The lower the better.)
"The second act comes directly to you
from John Rossetti's circuit. Sahib Yoo
Hoo Crowell, the magician, has just re-
turned from Schleswig-Holstein where
he learned the art of producing a human
being from nowhere, somewhere, any-
where, everywhere. (He'll let you have
your choice.) Yoo Hoo is sending two
members of the new Da Da political
party, John Bradford and Bud Savery,
to inspect two empty trunks on the
stage. "Da Da et Da Da" ascertain that
they are empty.
"Lo and behold ! as the two leave the
platform, a pair of feet appear over the
top of the trunk. What a pair of feet !
One look and everybody knows that they
belong to Eddie Tucker! (Poor Eddie,
handicapped like that.)
"Yoo Hoo steps to the remaining
trunk and what does he produce? None
other than Majorie Cassidy and her
trained cow, Effenbee !
"I'm sorry I have to cut this act short,
but Silent wants to commence. This is
Bill Ketchen saying, Cherry-ho."
"The President's personal secretary,
Miriam Gifford, is entering. She is go-
ing to read his Inaugural Address to-
night. President Pete wants to have
one more game of checkers with Bob
Bartlett, but he will never beat Bob.
(Bob is so crooked that he moves in
Loretta Smith, Iris Albertini, and
Jane Matheson wrote the inaugural ad-
dress for Eddie Cantor sixteen years
ago. Cantor refused to accept it, but
Pete the President didn't. He traded his
old chauffeurs, Ellis Wood and Joe
Shaw, a football, and his English
teacher, Ruby Johnson, for the address.
Somebody is paging me but I'm not
tall enough to see over the crowd. I wish
there were something to stand on — ah,
that's better. I'm standing on Harry
Taylor! (Nice fella, that Harry.)
That was Frank Sirrico looking for
me. He wants to talk on the Sirrico
Theory but I'll let him speak to his
parents instead. Come on, Hot-dog."
"H'lo, poppa! H'lo, moma! Are youse
seeing me? Goomby. — Tank you, Silent."
"The ball is almost over and the only
couples on the floor are Stanford
Bowers, our imported Italian Chef, with
Hazel Clark. Adova Bergamini and
Leonora Ceccarelli are doing an Irish
Jig (maybe I'm wrong) with Harvey
Tracey and Dora LaRocque.
The muscular woman beside the palm
tree is Anna O'Brien. She does the
laundry for the occupants of the White
House and Congress just for her board
and spending money.
Helen Beever is acting as check girl
to-night. She's only fifty years old but
doesn't look a day older than seventy-
Look who's here ! Henry Gilbert Har-
low, head jeer leader of the "Big
House." How you been doin', Henry?"
"Hear ye, hear ye ! Woe is me ! Num-
bers 123456, 654321, and I, Number
123654, you probably know them as
Sears and Bell, got mixed up in politics.
(Says Harlow.) I was but putty in the
hands of Sears and Bell. I was unable
to follow the straight and narrow road.
(It was being paved, anyway.) We en-
gaged in one of Sears' cinch enterprises
and wound up with an T. Y. I. L.
(Twenty years in Leavenworth) Woe is
me, woe is me — "
"Oh, well! Life's like that! So sorry
for you, Henry. I must be signing off."
(Silent alivays was such an understand-
This is "Silent" Kenneth Tingley, the
mouth-piece of the nation, bidding you
all plsasant dreams." (The prevarica-
tor! Why doesn't he say what he'd like
Warren Girard, '33.
Enzo Bongiovanni, '33.
OUR SONG ALBUM
Me — You — Diploma
Mrs. Winchell's Boy Enzo Bongiovanni
Thou Shalt Not Talk in the Study Hall
Smile For Me
Photographer for "Pilgrim" pictures
Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?
If I Ever Get a Job Again
Walking My Baby Back Home
Jane and Pete
Waltzing in a Dream Class Night
Willow, Weep for Me I flunked
I'll Have to Change My Plans
If I don't graduate
How Deep is the Ocean ?
Ask the Math Classes
I'm Playing With Fire
Writing this column
Three on a Match
Leno, Bruna, and Buzzy
Drifting and Dreaming 'Retta Smith
I'm Sure of Everything But You
Two Loves Have I Gilly Harlow
Going, Going, Gone
Class Night Tickets
Play, Fiddle, Play Joe Querze
I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues
Fiocchi of the Hole-in-One Club
Prisoner's Song Cliff Cobb
Oh — That Kiss In the Operetta
Music in My Fingers Harriett Phillips
Let's Call it a Day
Girard, Fiocchi, Bongiovanni, Ferri
I'll Never Have to Dream Again
If I Graduate
Underneath the Arches Reception
Listen to the German Band
Querze's Little Symphony
A Boy and a Girl Were Dancing
Eddie W. and Dot. T.
Kitten on the Keys "Butter" James
I'll Miss You in the Evening
You!ve got me in the Palm of your Hand
Tired Sixth Period
After Twelve o'clock
Davis doing homework
We'll See It Through
Volta's Orchestra for Class Night
Don't Tell a Soul—
And the whole school will soon know it
The Song I Wrote For You
One Little Word Led to Another
Everything Must Have an Ending
Even School Days
Please Don't Talk About Us When
We've Gone The Class of '33
Just an Echo in the Valley
Wasn't It Beautiful While It Lasted
High School Days
Just a Little Street Where Old Friends
Meet Lincoln Street
Some Day We'll Meet Again
FAVORITE SAYINGS OF
Miss Brown: "As student of political
theory would say — "
Mrs. Raymond : "From a psychological
standpoint — "
Mr. (Chief) Bagnall : "Take a rest!"
or "Just one minute !"
Miss Judd: "Are you chewing gum?"
Miss Rafter: "Phyllis, will you ever
learn to keep still?"
Miss H. C. Johnson: "Quiet, girls!"
Miss Kelly : "Eyes on your books — not
on the keyboard!"
Miss Locklin: "Berg and Besse, will
you keep still?"
Miss Lang: "I don't talk just to hear
my own voice!"
Mrs. Swift : "The United States is just
where the Roman Empire was before
Mr. Smiley : "Therefore—"
Mr. Fash : "It's a mere technicality."
Miss Carey: "Enzo, mangez-vous le
Miss Jacques: "Where are you sup-
posed to be this period?"
Miss Humphrey: "The verb 'to be'
never takes an object."
Miss Wilber: "Will you ever get past
Miss Hendry: "Stir that — don't let it
The Faculty as a Whole: "This is the
worst class I've ever had !"
WANTED — AN EXPLANATION
TTHE mysterious is always fascinating.
Men always take extreme delight in
speculating, theorizing, and wondering
about subjects which are little known or
difficult to explain. The fields of general
science and natural history offer more
in the way of unanswered questions than
the "theory of relativity" which Mr.
Einstein has so kindly advanced and
"simplified" for the benefit and advance-
ment of the more ignorant "common
herd" (composed of the average human
beings) which is, foolishly enough,
merely concerned with terrestrial, not
celestial, activities, and extremely negli-
gent in the impractical theorizing on
the why, how, when, and wherefore of
the almost supernatural mysteries of
Such a puzzle as bird migration in-
terested the ancients thoroughly, and
is not completely understood. Al-
though we have advanced beyond the
limit of supposing that birds disappear
beneath the waves of the ocean during
the winter and return in the spring, we
do not yet know where our most abun-
dant species winter. What governs the
mysterious journeys of the eels? Why do
some go from the West Indies to Europe
while others from the same location
cling to the American coastline? How
do little eels know where to diverge amid
the trackless waters, each keeping to
its elders' range? What guides newly-
hatched sea-turtles invariably toward
the ocean? What makes — but these are
only passing examples of the mysteries
of Nature, all of them having to do with
What becomes of animals that meet
death in the field or woods? It is
among "the beasts that perish" that
mystery and mystification rear their
heads and fire the imagination with
questions which receive no answer.
When one considers the "law of nature,"
the preying of the strong upon the weak,
the survival of the fittest, one must
realize that enormous numbers of the
lower animals perish and the number of
dead are many times the number living,
yet the tiny proportion of their remains
which later come to light is extraordin-
ary. Eagles have been known to pass
the "century mark," but how many
people have found an eagle's skeleton?
It is reasonably correct to suppose
that some of the big grizzly bears die a
natural death, but if any have been
found, few persons know about it.
(authority: Alexander Sprunt, Jr.)
Likewise, the finding of a deer's skeleton
in territory where these animals are
abundant is unusual, yet some wounded
ones must escape the hunter and die
iater. What becomes of the antlers that
deer, moose, and elk alike shed annually ?
So rare is the finding of these antlers
that the theory of the animals burying
their own antlers as they drop has been
offered and accepted by many.
The durability of skeletons in resist-
ing the elements may be proved by the
great number of prehistoric skeletons
that are found, but even if vegetation,
mold, and decay destroyed in the torrid
and temperate zones all the remains of
even the larger animals, what becomes
of inanimate life in the frigid zones?
The skeleton of a huge mastodon was
found in Siberia, if we remember
correctly, with the flesh of this animal
that existed over a million years ago
still in an excellent state of preserva-
tion. If the remains of this animal of
another age were preserved by the cold,
what becomes of the skeletons of polar
bears, walrus, and other forms of Arctic
life? (The Eskimos could not possibly
make all of them into needles, spears,
Many may doubt and ridicule the
statements as to the scarcity of the
skeletons of eagles, elk, deer, walrus,
"bars", and polar "bars", but who will
doubt the rarity of finding a dead
elephant? Perhaps "relatively speak-
ing" (with sincere apologies to Ein-
stein) they crawl under a leaf in the
jungle, or, just as logically, are rein-
carnated into the now popular "pink
elephants" that are usually found on
walls and ceilings by those brave souls
who invade the "sacred confines" of the
This ridicule is, perhaps, unnecessary,
but seriously, in spite of the fact that
much of this article is interrogative,
the perhaps poorly formulated idea is
to awaken an interest in the mysteries
of our own world, and to show the folly
of the world's most intelligent men
seemingly wasting their time and en-
ergy in the building up and the tearing
down of impractical theories concern-
ing the universe. The average man
shows little interest in this field. Is it
not better that the magnificent brains
that these men possess should be put to
a more practical use such as delving
into terrestrial mysteries, instead of
worrying about the expanding and con-
tracting of the universe or the method
of advancing "technocracy"?
Robert Martin '34
ON JIG-SAW PUZZLES
"Crossword puzzles! nay, nay!
But jig-saiv puzzles,, hey hey!"
CINCE the beginning of Time, people
have sat up nights trying to think of
ways to waste it. But with the sudden
popularity of jig-saw puzzles, their
troubles are solved. "Rome wasn't built
in a day — runs the old adage, but with
the time wasted in doing these puzzles
in the U. ,S. in one week, Rome, Chicago,
and points west could bave been erected,
and by hand.
Insane asylums provide their inmates
with these puzzles to keep them busy, so
the mentally deficients' brain will run in
circles, squares, angles, and curlicues,
instead of in a single track. The jig-
saw puzzle's popularity is due to de-
pression. Instead of worrrying where
the next loaf of bread is coming from,
the head of the house ponders as to how
he can place a "portable" chimney, on a
Not only is jig-saw puzzling a waste
of time, but long seances with a mass of
jumbled edges is harmful to the op-
tics. People used to see spots before
their eyes, but now it is corners which
dance before them. Many a highly
nervous person has been reduced from
a normal being to a shrieking maniac
who raves and swears he'll heave the
blankety thing out the window.
Why not apply the principle of jig-
saw puzzling in a beneficial way? For
instance: at breakfast time hide
hubby's toast in one corner and half
an egg in the kitchen oven, and let him
look for them. Not only will the exer-
cise do him good, but it will train his
senses to be on the alert. Another
method of procedure would be to have
the office secretary tear up all import-
ant letters and let the boss put them to-
gether again. When his job was com-
pleted, at least he would be rewarded
with more than a picture he'd seen
hundreds of times before.
Miriam Gifford '33
AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR
W/TIEN my sister begged me to take
her to the basketball game and
dance, instead of going to the theatre to
see Marie Dressier, I naturally thought
of the comedy that I should miss. How-
ever, I was compensated by witnessing
a short drama more humorous than
some comedies where the actions of the
actors are forced in an effort to pro-
duce a laugh, and no humor is present
except in the eyes of youngsters.
In the large hall, we sat in the third
ssction of the first balcony. A few rows
in front of us sat an interesting little
girl, — little, I say, but only in size and
in her eleven years; for in dress and
actions she had the air of a prepossess-
ing grown-up miss who was conscious
of good looks. She was dressed in a
short, red shirt, closefitting, red sweater,
and a red tarn, perched on her comely-
shaped head revealed, at the nape of her
neck, a mass of short, brown hair which
had apparently been curled, judging by
the way in which a small hand was lifted
every now and then to see if each curl
were still in its place. The small hand
was lifted in a manner which bespoke
of the endeavors of Miss Somebody to
impress casual glancers with a graceful
During the game, Miss Gwendolyn
le Moyne sat behind several boys whom
she endeavored to engage in conversa-
tion. She succeeded only in drawing the
partial attention of the biggest boy and
a few words from the others in reply to
her remarks, in spite of the pert little
nose, well-shaped chin, and sparkling
brown eyes. She did not realize that at
a basketball game, although a girl of
her age and type may primarily be in-
terested in boys, boys her age would be
more interested in the game than in a
pretty girl. However, it might not hold
girl. However, it might not hold true in
true in the case of older boys. The cool
responses of the boys had no effect on
her good opinion of herself and she kept
on making remarks and chewing her
gum as persistently as ever. Surely some
of the boys would dance with her when
the time came.
The gams was over. Dancing had be-
gun. Meanwhile, several big boys had
summoned a little fellow from the front
row, to whom Miss Somebody had tried
to talk, and were now shamefully brib-
ing the little boy to dance with Gwen-
dolyn. After many refusals, the boy ap-
proached Gwendolyn, and she, unaware
of the cause of his appearance, raised
her head with a victorious air and left
her seat. Down the steps which led to
the dance floor she proudly walked with
her partner. Could they dance? I was
never to know.
On the last step, terror suddenly
seized the boy, judging by the expres-
sion on his face. He looked at the
dancers towering above him, at the
smooth floor, hesitated a brief second,
and then — . Up the stairs which he had
slowly descended, he ran, deserting
Gwendolyn. And she, a wave of morti-
fication crossing her face, fled, disap-
pearing through an exit conveniently
Iris Albertini, '33
WORK OF THE STORM
O'er the castle, black and gloomy,
Thunder rolled in fearful crash ;
Lightning sprang, like some white steed
Maddened by the battle's gore,
Down to earth, with crash triumphant,
Seizing, gripping those black walls,
Tearing asunder gloomy dungeons,
Laying bare the farthest chambers,
Crashing through the winding stair-
Sending madness mid its splendor.
Thrice it flashed, and thrice succeeded,
Struck its prey and, loose once more,
Soared to heaven. Thunder rumbled,
Rolled, muttering in dying anger —
Storm had left its prey to darkness.
Far below the sky the ruins,
Black and charred, with vast halls
Lay in majesty — the remnant
Of the fire from heaven triumphant.
Of the knights and of the ladies,
Of the gorging banquet feasters,
Of the yelping curs and beggars,
Of the serfs and peasants lowly,
None remained ; but in the darkness,
In the charred and broken ruins
Lay one thing untouched by fire,
One thing left by storm unravaged —
Symbol of a brave knight's courage —
Sword! Unbroken, gleaming brightly,
Yet you lie among the ruins,
Remnant of forgotten splendour !
Marion E. McGinnis, '35
pOR twenty-five years, she, Maggie
McLeod, had placed those dishes on
the table and then taken them off.
Twenty-five years, three hundred and
sixty-five days a year, three times a
day — it exhausted her to think of it.
And now she would never have to do it
again ! oh ! During those first few years,
how she had loved it; planning for meals
just what her William would like, and
then afterwards carefully washing and
wiping the shiny, new, pink and white
plates! Sometimes William had helped
her, but not often, because he was so
liable to break her precious dishes.
— Then during the first years of
little Johnnie's life, she had enjoyed
cooking for her hungry husband and her
growing babe. How the baby used to
gurgle as she fed him from the little
mug with the kittens on it that his Aunt
Ruth had sent him ! Poor little Johnnie
— they had striven so hard in the old
days to give him everything. She had
been happy to make sacrifices for the
baby. And then the night that William
was killed —
Her vision blurred and she stopped
her dreaming to wipe her spectacles.
Time had dulled but not killed the pain
which seized her heart when she re-
called that horrible night — the strangely
ill-at-ease man who had tried to explain
to her that the train had jumped the
tracks and William was dead. At first
her numbed brain had refused to be-
lieve it, but finally —
Well, no use to bring back those mem-
ories now. She hadn't minded getting
the meals and washing dishes for
Johnnie, but all too soon he had grown
up and left her — to make his own way
in the world, he had said. After that
only force of habit made her prepare
the three light meals a day for herself
alone. Gradually the once-loved task
had become hateful.
But now she was to be alone no
longer. Johnnie was coming home —
coming home to take her away to meet
his wife and to live with them. Johnnie
was rich now, he said in his letters, and
she would never again have to wash
Humming to herself, she prepared
her meal and ate it. A boiled egg, a cup
of tea — that was all she required now.
Her mind formed a little song — John-
nie's coming home, Johnnie's coming
home — she would never be alone again.
How had she endured it all these years?
The doorbell rang. Could it be
Johnnie so soon? She patted her dress,
her hair, and ran to the door. But it
was only a messenger boy. She took the
telegram and went back to her meal.
The song was still in her mind —
Johnnie's coming home, Johnnie's
coming home —
She had finished her meal before she
remembered the message. Then, with
the hesitancy most people have about
opening telegrams, she opened it and
We are very sorry to inform you
your son died this morning from acute
alcoholism in the Westchester County
Hospital. Please communicate with
J. P. O'Brien,
Chief of Police
Westchester, N. J."
For a long time she sat still, too dazed
to move. Over and over she read the aw-
ful missive. How could that little slip
of yellow paper have such an effect on
her life? For hours she sat there, un-
Then she rose and started to clear the
dishes from the table —
Florence Armstrong, '34
WILLETT RAINER SNOW
TWLLLETT was born when it was hail-
ing. They blamed that for his ap-
parent lunacy although the hail was
really not to blame. It was his brain.
Many people said he had none. That
would appear to be impossible, but even
now there is a question. He almost
died. The specialist said pneumonia.
Mavbe it was brain-fever. Who knows?
Nobody but the doctors — and even they
may not. He's alive now, though. He
wouldn't have been missed if he had
died. That is, nobody but himself would
have known it. Perhaps he wouldn't
have. The only way he could have found
out was to have tried. He didn't try.
Probably didn't know enough to if he
had wanted. He fell downstairs once.
That's what made him cross-eyed. He
is, you know. The doctors couldn't
straighten them. He didn't care —
-couldn't look any worse anyhow. Red-
headed — his aunt was. She wasn't dumb,
though. At least not so bad as he was.
Black-eyed — space — the unknown quan-
tity. No, it couldn't have been the hail !
Willett Rainer Snow, graduate of
Detective Correspondence School Incor-
porated, peered around the corner of the
house. Nothing there — he wasn't sur-
prised. He ran quickly to a tree, climbed
up — resembled an ape in the branches.
Jumped down — ran up the steps. Sat
in a chair just as his red-headed aunt
came around the corner — appeared not
to notice her. She had seen his actions
from a window. Two men entered.
Willett and the men left to buy an ice-
cream at the nearest soda fountain. Left
in large covered truck, passed soda foun-
tain, and continued. Ended in padded
Joseph Shaw, '33
The greedy, grasping miser
clutches his gold, and
Presses it to his bosom
with a covetous cackle.
The actress, thirsty for fame,
gloats over the
Clamorous applause of her
The teacher smiles with satisfaction
at the close of a long life
Of continued service — guiding and aid-
youth to learning.
The scientist receives his long-
desired reward —
The aviator realizes his dream —
accomplishes the unprecedented
Spans the Atlantic.
I sit before the
Recalling happy memories,
And thank God
for friends —
My treasures !
Shirley M. Dutton, '34
THE OLD MAID TURNS
Happy birthday, dear friends say,
Looking younger every day !
Tell me Fortune smiles on me,
'Cause I'm forty, yet I'm free.
Then their glances slyly stray,
Note, "Her hair is turning gray."
'Ads' that I have read declare
Gentlemen prefer them fair.
Should I, could I dye my hair?
Well, I wonder, do I dare?
Yes, I'll buy some Golden Glint,
Greying hair shall give no hint — I'm
Please some man shall find me fair,
Gazing on my golden hair,
Though it's wrong to change myself,
Gosh, it's lonesome on the shelf.
A. Cohan, '33
AND WE SCOFFED
WITH awe and reverence intermingled,
I stood gazing up at the queenly, ivy-
covered buildings that were to harbor
me for four years. College, at last. All
my hopes, my fears, my very future lay
there. Some strangely sweet, foreign
feeling crept into my heart, a salty tear
slid from my eye.
"Act your age," I sternly admonished
"Can't," sobbed a voice 'way down in-
Striving vainly for a nonchalant air,
I drew in my quivering breath and
strode into — my Future.
I passed through the various stages
of humble freshman, hopeful sopho-
more, and lofty junior. I soon learned to
adjust myself to college life and its
highly modernized ideas. From my
classmates I learned that honesty is
practiced only by those who would never
get anywhere, that it is doubtful if there
is any God, that I should take all life
and people offered and give nothing in
At first I was horrified when I heard
the deformed, twisted ideas of scoffing,
incredulous youths, and I burst out with
rage to defend all the ideals which were
sacred to me. Many students exchanged
pitying glances and their mocking
titters cut into my heart. It was the
fear of being labeled "queer", of being
avoided by my classmates, that finally
drove me to accept their conceptions.
Gradually I became foremost in the
ranks of those condemning idealism.
That we might be wrong never occurred
to our blinded reason. Like beings grop-
ing in the dark, we refused to open our
eyes to sane, practical logic. Only one
of our great numbers remained un-
Tom Smidt was by no means a shin-
ing student. Rather he belonged to the
plodding legion that trudges cheerfully
on its way, day by day, year in and year
out, never quite reaching the goal. Tom
was an idealist from the bottom of his
huge feet to the tip of the fair hair
waving defiantly from the top of his
head. He listened respectfully to our ar-
guments but accept our conceptions he
would not. Perhaps it was because he
was so impassive to our onslaughts, per-
haps a thousand things, anyway Tommy
was popular among us boys despite his
strange standards. How Fate was to
twist our lives and his was unforseen.
If we could have but known !
It was the custom at our college for
each boy to attend a military camp for
six weeks training during the summer.
We c.ll felt the thrill that comes with the
handling of instruments of destruction.
How proudly we bore ourselves in our
uniforms of olive drab ! Indeed at times
we wished some one would start a small
war that we might display to our admir-
ing countrymen our knowledge of death-
spitting cannons, destructive bombs,
suffocating gases that turned a man's
face green and blinded as they killed. No
one obliged us with a war and so fortu-
nately or unfortunately our lives were
Our classroom was a great pit in the
ground with a slanting sheetiron roof
and strong concrete walls. There was
but one entrance which was worked by
a combination lock that only the in-
structor knew how to open. During
class this door was locked. These pre-
cautions were necessary, for the pit was
a veritable arsenal where army muni-
tions were stored.
One morning we began the absorbing
study of learning to throw a hand
grenade. The instructor demonstrated
how to pull the plug and estimate the
time in which it explodes. We clus-
tered eagerly about him to see the work-
ing of this wonderful implement. Tom
alone stood back, horror and revulsion
stamped on his heavy features. These
days were torture for him. He hated
war with an intensity that frightened
me. At night I heard his whispered
pleas, saw the tears which wet his face,
saw the bruised soul shining through
The instructor went on in a calm voice
trying not to see the awful look on
Across the room some careless student
dropped a gun with a loud clatter and
the instructor hurried to see what
damage had been done, leaving the gre-
nade in a student's hand. I can't recall
exactly what happened then. In some
way the plug had been accidently pulled !
"Mr. Daley!" shrieked the panic-
stricken student. Stark terror gripped
him. He threw the bomb from him. As
in some horrible dream we heard it
clatter on the floor.
One man only could open the door to
safety. Even he could not do it in the
few seconds of life that were left. Eyes
dilated, shivering we waited. Somehow
I found myself praying, pleading with
the One I had forsaken. Nearer and
nearer came Death. Hysterical cries and
sobs rent the air. Death was nearly up-
Suddenly a body hurtled by me. Tom !
With a sickening pain I knew what he
was doing. Straight upon the grenade
he threw himself.
"Tommie, don't do it, don't do it,
don't — ." A deafening explosion, then
darkness closed about me.
When I awoke I was in the hospital,
my head bandaged. Tom was dead. Of
all the men in the classroom only he had
deserved to live. Why, why was he the
one to die ? Was it because only he was
fit to enter the Kingdom of Heaven ? No,
I cried, it can't be, there is no heaven!
And as I spoke those words, I knew I
was lying, knew that for three years I
had been deceiving myself.
We started living anew, trying to be
a bit like Tommy.
People think I'm insane when I say I
hear his voice. But I do. I hear it in the
sobbing tones of the organ, when the
song of the birds fills the air, when the
silent snow falls lightly, when I kneel at
the altar. Yes, Tommy and I have be-
come intimate friends.
Alba Martinelli, '36
A MESSAGE TO TELL
There are millions in far lands who
ne'er have been told
That Jesus, His life hath laid down ;
Which was precious, more precious than
rubies or gold
And to us will He give a crown
If we only believe on His Name, in His
How we're saved from sin by His
And some day in His Kingdom we'll be
with our Lord ;
We'll gaze on His heavenly Face.
We will serve, work and play, we will
laugh, praise and sing.
Oh, happy, how happy we'll be !
May the millions be told, may they not
miss a thing.
Lord, if Thy will, please send me!
Ellen Young, '33
THE BLESSED TOILER
God gave me all —
Days of ceaseless labor
Drudgery — breaking my bones.
Sweat and grime
Upon my brow,
In the black, damp mines.
God gave me all.
Nights of peaceful rest
.Contented — in my solitude.
Love and laughter
In my heart,
A prayer to Him
Who blessed me with Faith.
In Him I trust.
Bruna Gambini, '33
Why are you sad, strange little boy?
Is it because someone has broken your
In your gay, knitted sweater and cheery
You brinng to my mind my childhood
Why are your rosy cheeks streaked with
Can it be the burden of all your years?
You surely aren't more than three and
a half —
Just at the age to frolic and laugh.
You want some candy and a stick of
Heavens! that shouldn't require any
I've two pennies here in my purse, I
So there, little boy, don't you bother to
Loretta Smith, '33
WELL, I'LL BE
jyjARTY O'Toole, six feet four inches
tall, half as wide, and twice as
thick, swayed gently in his tracks as he
gazed pensively at the window just
eight and one half feet from the two
massive extremities of his frame, which
on ordinary mortals are usually called
feet. For the past two weeks Marty had
moved about the job in a trance since
his first glimpse of the very attractive
occupant of the room into which this
window opened, had registered on his
portion of a mind and left an achy, yet
tingling sensation in the upper left-hand
section of his torso.
It was getting rather late and she
usually showed up by nine o'clock.
Marty sighed dejectedly. The voice of
Callahan, four stories below, brought
him out of his semi-conscious state.
"Hey, you big gorilla, we ain't paying
you eight bucks a day to pose as a lily
of the valley. Come to and earn your
Marty, who had signaled for rivets
from his helper, sidled over a couple
more feet, directly over Callahan, and
said, "Aw, take your job and — Wow! —
Now it's an indisputable fact that a
white hot rivet dropped into a hip pocket
may prove decidedly uncomfortable.
Marty evidently found it so. With an
agonized yell he "took off" into the
great open spaces. Then, realizing his
mistake, he clutched frantically at the
nearest object and hung on desperately.
By this time the rivet had burned its
way through his heavy overalls, a little
beneath its point of entrance.
Marty's first thought was that, if he
lived through this, he would eat from
the mantle and be courteous to ladies in
subways for a long time. His next dis-
covery was that he had grabbed the win-
dow-sill of his secret idol and that he
was hanging from the sill by the grace
of God and the vice-like grip of his own
The window above his head shot up.
She was there. Breathlessly she gasped,
"Are you hurt — can you get up — shall I
call the fire department — oh ! what shall
Marty beamed at her. "I'm O. K.,
lady. Soon's I get me breath I'll be in
to see ya."
With a mighty heave he slid pain-
fully across the window-sill. Turning,
he gazed thoughtfully at the great,
yawning abyss which he had just hurd-
led, then down into Callahan's amazed
face. He shut the window and turned
to his still-flustered hostess.
"Funny what a guy can do with the
right inspiration," offered Marty.
"What do you mean?" she queried.
"Well, I been lookin' over here for
quite a while and I didn't see you so I
just dropped over."
"Why, what on earth," — the girl
ctarted in amazement.
"You were late, wasn't you?" Marty
"Why, er — yes. My little boy was
rather out of sorts and — "
"What! you married?" demanded
"Yes, of course."
"Ow, "groaned Marty sinking into a
chair, and "Wow!" as he realized his
"Oh, you are hurt, aren't you?" she
"Well, I got an awful burn on — yeah,
I sure got an awful burn," Marty re-
plied as he ambled to the window. Lean-
ing out he yelled,
"Am I fired?"
He balanced for a moment on the win-
dow ledge. The girl shrilled at him,
"Don't, for heaven's sake !"
With all the precision of a cricket, al-
though he more closely resembled a bull
moose, Marty sprang, alighted, wavered,
gained his precarious perch, and shuf-
fled over to his work.
Leaning over, he glared down at his
"Push 'em up."
Gilbert Harlow, '33
THE HANDS OF TIME
She stood before the clock
"The hands of Time!
These are the hands
That tell off
The years and eternities ;
The numbered moments
Of Man's life —
His sorrows, joys,
Loves and hates —
His victories and defeats !
In the next year, or the next hour,
The next minute — yes,
Even the next second —
Hands of Time,
Who knows what you
Will bring to me?"
C harlotte B urgess, '33
By God's will we've reached the shore-
Of the great expanse beyond,
And our bark will be all ready
'Fore another day has dawned.
Hark! tempestuous waves are crashing
On the hidden rocks below.
Can we steer our precious vessel
Through them, safely — ? Who can
Now we start, ship strewn with gar-
Cheers the crowd, — our anchor's free —
Will our courage — then — be steadfast
Lone and rocked on darkened sea?
When we're tossed by cruel billows,
When we're plunged in deep abyss,
When our trusted friends forsake us,
Can our ship combat with this?
God, we hope our ship is sturdy,
For we've tried to build it so,
And with Your kind blessing on us
Fully armored shall we go.
M. E . Whiting, '33
The novice at trout fishing had hooked a
very small trout. Excitedly he played it, reel-
ing it in after a moment or two until it was
rammed tight against the end of the rod.
Glowing with the warmth of conquest, he
turned to his instructor.
"I've got him! I've got him!" he cried. "Now
what do I do?"
"Climb up the pole and stab him to death,"
replied the disgusted instructor.
THE EPOCH MAKER
"Good afternoon, gentlemen; I sup-
pose you're reporters. Am I right? No?
Well, at any rate, I know you want
me to tell you about my great feat of
"Have a seat — pardon me — do you see
my armchairs anywhere? — Well, I guess
the office boy took them home with him.
Never mind, perhaps there's room for
you on that bench.
"I've always believed it could be done.
It was one of my boyhood dreams.
Everyone, when I applied for financial
assistance, said it was a crazy idea, but
I've done it, gentlemen, I've done it!
Three months ago America was con-
nected to Asia only by steamships ply-
ing back and forth, but now the two
continents are closely linked together by
a bridge one hundred and fifty miles
long reaching from Cape Prince of
Wales in to East Cape in Asia ! It is a
superhuman accomplishment, gentle-
men, the product of a genius who — but
please, please, gentlemen, spare me this
embarrassment, for I still retain the
modesty which was my most becoming
characteristic in my childhood days.
"Other great engineers have made it
a practice to start on the shore and build
towards the center of the span, but I
started at the center and worked to-
wards the shore as well. The bridge is
made of wood for a very good reason.
Wood, as you may know, floats, so I
built sections of the bridge on the shore,
towed them out and weighted these sec-
tions down with rocks. Of course the
ballast clutters up the top of the bridge
somewhat, but nothing is perfect.
"One of my worst setbacks was ex-
perienced when we were putting the
third section in. When we weighted it
down, it sank into the mud until its sur-
face was fifty feet below the level of the
rest of the bridge. That difficulty was
readily overcome by installing escalators
at both ends of that section.
"Just before I left we had a cold spell
and the bridge in contracting drew a-
part in the middle. I had my men put
a few planks across the gap, so that no
one would be annoyed by it, and we
have only to lift those planks up to allow
boats to pass through the Straits.
"What? You must be going? Well,
come again when I can take the time
to talk to you. Good-bye.
"Warden, can't I play Napoleon now?
I'm tired of being an engineer, and be-
sides, I've lost my Erector. I may? Oh,
Howard Sherman, '33
WHAT A NIGHT!
gUSINESS had been dull. Not many
people were on the street. At the
tenth stroke of the clock in Town
Square, Katherine decided to close shop.
Stretching out a lanquid hand, she
pressed the two buttons which controlled
the lights in the back of the store. She
walked slowly to the cash register. One
of her duties was to count the money
and check the charges.
Her thoughts wandered as she stood
there. The novel she had just finished —
a good story but the plot was impossible.
"Bearded Bandits" was an inviting
title — it suggested daring, romantic ad-
ventures. The only men she knew with
beards were as old as the hills and as
romantic as a Uriah Heep. Where, oh,
where were the Don Quixotes and Robin
Hoods of her generation?
She looked up suddenly. She knew
someone was looking at her. Her hands
tightened on the bills she held. Two
huge men were gazing through the win-
dow at her. Neatly trimmed, curly,
brown beards ornamented the lower
part of their faces. Dark felt hats
pulled low over their faces did not con-
ceal their enormous, glowing eyes.
Surely, they were as large as half-dol-
lars ! After what seemed to be a hurried
consultation, the men went away.
She breathed a sigh of relief — too
soon ! One of them entered. He walked
past towards the tables. Her heart stood
still — then raced on madly. She gulped
and gave the prescribed,
"Can I do something for you?"
"Yes. I'd like coffee and sandwiches,
Oh, horrors ! She was the only one in
the store. She was afraid to leave him
alone there. Mr. Jones next door had
closed and was gone. Officer Riley
wouldn't be back for a half-hour.
Visions of a hold-up — maybe she'd be
shot — those thieves in the book —
"I'm sorry, but — "
"The sign says you serve until ten-
thirty. It's only ten now."
What could she say? Not that she was
alone ! Desperately, she snatched a
"We have no bread left. I can give
you coffee and pastries, though."
The bell which summoned the man
who worked downstairs caught her eye.
When they forced her, trembling, de-
fiant — to give them the money in the
register, she would press the bell with
her knee. She could see the headlines —
that handsome, new reporter would in-
terview her — her picture would be on
the front page of the paper — "Daring
Herione Aids in Capture of Interna-
tional Criminals" — but no one was
downstairs ! He'd left at five !
"Well, I'll have a cup of coffee, any-
He stood at the counter, sipping it
slowly. Would he never finish it?
Whence had his companion disap-
"Ten minutes past ten. You'll be open
ten or twenty minutes longer, won't
With a last, searching look at the
shop, he turned and left.
She made a frantic dive for the door
and locked it behind him. A quick
change of costume and she was ready to
An anxious survey of the street re-
assured her. THEY were nowhere in
sight ! Her fears had been foolish ! The
man had been hungry and his com-
That was the solution. Murder
mysteries and glaring tabloids did
queer things to the imagination.
The tall, street light cast gruesome
shadows. Still no people on the streets.
Head down, hands in her pocket, she
dashed across the street. Suddenly she
stopped short. In a Ford parked op-
posite the store were the two, bearded
strangers. They stared fixedly at it.
A tremor of fear passed over her. There
was one thing left to do — and she did
it! She hadn't been on the track team
As she ran along, her pulses pounding
furiously, she thought it over. Would
they break into the store? Were they
thieves? Why had they stopped there?
She said nothing to anyone, for she
realized how absurd her story would
sound. Still, for many weeks, despite
the fact that nothing had happened, she
wondered about the men. Who were
they? What had they been doing in
Loretta Smith, '33
Jimmy's father found him in the barn. He
was shaking his pet rabbit and saying: "Five
and five! How much is five and five?"
"Jimmy, Jimmy, what does this mean?" his
father demanded. "Why," said Jimmy,
"teacher told us rabbits multiply rapidly, but
this dumbbell can't even add!"
The following four stanzas are an
original translation taken from "Le
Lac," a poem by Lamartine, well-known
French poet of the nineteenth century.
(Verses 6, 7, 8, 9)
hours divine, and fleeting time,
Pray, cease your rapid flight!
Allow us, pray, on our happiest days
To dream in your sublime delight !
Enough of sorrow, all implore you ;
Grant their simple quest ;
Days of care, for them pray spare
A quiet, peaceful rest.
In vain I plead a few short moments'
But time escapes in flight ;
1 ask this eve, " Your time retrieve?"
But dawn dispels the night.
Then love, then love divine, we now en-
Sweet joy, as one short hour flees on;
Man has no trend, time hath no end,
It glides away as we pass on.
Marjorie Cassidy, '33
ON CAPE COD
Stillness of night,
Gleam of a star,
Beam of a lighthouse,
Glimpsed from afar ;
Glory of dawn,
Sun on the sands,
Their gigantic hands ;
Blue of the ocean,
Gulls soaring upward,
White clouds o'erhead ;
Placid and peaceful,
Thank thee, Lord,
For this quaint land
Known as Cape Cod.
Jeannette Martin, '34
First passenger on Atlantic liner: "You
know I am a literary person. I have contrib-
uted to the Atlantic Monthly."
Second ditto: "You have nothing on me. On
this trip I have contributed to the Atlantic
A private was standing in the company
street, outside his tent, shaving.
"Do you always shave outside?" asked the
"Of course," answered the private. "What
do you think I am — fur-lined?"
In&er tbr Mtjite (Cupola
'""THE Pilgrim" this year takes the
form of a Senior Year Book. This
column, therefore, will be a review of
the year's happenings to date.
Class activities began, as usual, with
the election of officers.
The presidents are :
Class of 1933 Gilbert Harlow
Class of 1934 Joseph Stefani
Class of 1935 Albert Padovani
The Class of Nineteen Thirty-three
started its senior year by giving a dance
early in November. This was very suc-
cessful and well attended.
Then on Friday evening, April
seventh, the Senior Class presented a
one-act play, "The Valiant", in the small
hall in the Memorial Building. The pro-
ceeds are to be used toward defraying
the cost of this issue. The hall was
crowded, and each and every one who at-
tended appreciated the work that must
have been necessary to the presentation
of such a finished product. Dancing
followed in the large hall, with music
by Volta's Orchestra.
In spite of the crowded conditions in
the morning session, we have had many
unusual assemblies. Early last fall,
Miss Dorothy Goodenough, who was not
long ago a teacher here, since then a
teacher in the American College for
Girls in Athens, gave a most interesting
talk on her experiences in Greece.
Milton J. Schlagenhauf of North-
eastern University, and Mr. Weasley
of Burdett College have each spoken to
us on college and our life work. At an-
other assembly Mr. Squires of Boston
showed us some unusually interesting
slides on "Where the Oregon Flows."
The boys of the school have also had an
assembly of their own, at which Mr.
W. H. Dunn of the Nautical School
spoke to them.
As an introduction to his course of
health lectures at the Memorial Hall,
Mr. Julius Gilbert White spoke to us at
one assembly. His interesting lecture
aroused in many of us a new interest in
Another very interesting talk was
given by Professor Bartlett of the His-
tory Department, Tufts College, con-
cerning the value and cost of education.
Our own orchestra played for one
assembly in February. Despite the fact^
that its numbers were greatly de--
creased by the epidemic of colds it
gave a very interesting concert. Mr.
Shipman has given us a series of short
assemblies, in each of which he has
stressed a point of importance in our
The boys in the operetta missed an al-
together different assembly at which
Mr. Hendry, father of our new domes-
tic science teacher, showed us many of
his paintingss with which he illustrated
some of the requisites of a good picture.
From Duxbury have come two fine
speakers. The first was Mrs. Daven-
port who spoke to the Senior Class on
the life and works of Gilbert Stuart,
the famous man who painted George
Washington's portrait. Later Mr. Sey-
mour spoke to us concerning the life of
Shakespeare, including in his talk some
of his own personal experiences while
acting in Shakespeare's dramas.
The honor society took charge of an-
other assembly, at which new members
were initiated. The new members are:
Seniors — Iris Albertini, Victoria
Brewer, Ferdinand Fiocchi, Evelyn
Johns, John Santos.
Juniors — Florence Armstrong,
Marjorie Belcher, Ruth Buttner, Shirley
Dutton, Jeannette Martin, Robert Mar-
tin, Josephine Montinari, William Brew-
Following the plan started last year
at Christmas, every home room in the
school filled a Christmas box for a poor
family. These boxes, which were deliv-
ered on the Friday before the holiday,
brought joy to many families.
The Christmas assembly this year was
in charge of Mrs. Raymond's Junior
English class. Miss Margaret Kyle gave
a Christmas reading which was followed
by a tableau vivant of "The First Christ-
Although the results of the games
were not so successful as we could have
wished, this year's football season was
very exciting and well worth the at-
tendance of all football fans.
There has been no Student Council
this year, but five members of the Junior
Class attended a Student Council Con-
ference at Durfee High School in Fall
River. From the enthusiasm which re-
sulted may come a revival of Student
Council next year.
Realizing our need of a school publi-
cation, two Juniors, Robert Martin and
Carlo Guidoboni, have taken it upon
themselves to relieve this need, and are
publishing a "Junior Pilgrim". The one
issue which has as yet been printed, was
received with great enthusiasm by the
The members of the boys' basketball
team have had a successful season, win-
ning a large majority of the games. Al-
though they lost the Brockton Tourna-
ment, Mansfield, the winner, does not
take the cup permanently, and we shall
have another chance next year. The
girls' team went through the season un-
defeated. For this achievement, the
members of the first team were given
small gold basketballs.
Miss Wilber's Latin Club held an all-
day picnic at Manter's Point last
October. The club also held a Christmas
Party just before Christmas in the
Lincoln Street School. At this time the
Freshman Latin classes presented a
short play and gifts were exchanged.
The serving of refreshments closed a
most enjoyable evening.
The Gilbert and Sullivan operetta,
"Pirates of Penzance," was successfully
produced in Memorial Hall on April
twenty-eighth to an audience of most
enthusiastic music-lovers. Much credit
should go to Mr. Wooley, to Mrs. Buck,
and to Miss Locklin as well as to all
members of the cast.
The ticket-selling campaign was like-
wise a success. Competition between
teams was great. The winning team was
captained by Warren Sampson and
Elizabeth Wood. Paul Warnsman, E.
Manzotti, and M. Regal are the cham-
pion ticket sellers in the school.
Many pupils are looking forward to
the two coming social events of the
school, the Freshman Dance, scheduled
for the fifth of May, and the Junior
Prom, planned for one week later on the
twelfth. Committees are at work plan-
ning for both of these occasions, and
we expect as enjoyable and successful
evenings as in past years.
Now we must say "Auf Wiedersehen"
until next year.
Marjorie S. Belcher
Harvey E. Barke
Left to Right: Smiled, Marjorie Belcher, Florence Armstrong, Ruby Johnson, Iris Albertini,
Loretta Smith, Miriam GifFord, Evelyn Johns, Shirley Uutton
Left to Right: Standing, Dorothy Tcstoni, Harvey Barke, Jane Matheson, Margaret Whiting,
Enzo Bongiovanni, Gilbert Andrews, William Brewster, Kenneth Tingley, Leroy Shreiber
The hockey season opened with sev-
eral of last year's players in the line-
up. Because of Mrs. Garvin's careful
grooming, the team was able to hold its
own throughout the season. Seven
games were played with out-of-town
teams. Our victories numbered five, and
there were two games which ended in a
Marked improvement was noted in
the playing of Marion Zandi, Bertha
James, and "Gus" Cappella, while Leah
Alberghini lived up to her last year's
Below is the schedule of games
played, with the final score :
The girls' basketball team remained
undefeated throughout the season for
the second consecutive year, and as a
reward the school presented the girls
with gold basketballs, each ball bearing
the name and position of the player.
Bertha James and Leah Alberghini
were high scorers, and a sophomore,
Helen Brewer, made a very capable
Of the six games played, the most in-
teresting was the home game with
Bridgewater, which, as you will see
from the chart following, nearly ended
in a tie score.
Track practice is well under way a-
gain, and with such stars as Bertha
James and Leah Alberghini in the field,
the Plymouth girls should carry off their
share of honors this year.
Baseball on a larger scale is the plan
this year. The girls are to have their
first baseball team, and inter-class
games are being organized.
Although tennis has not yet started
because of the condition of the court,
plans for a tournement have been com-
pleted, and many names have been re-
ceived from those desirous of entering
Plans are also being completed for a
grand play day to be held here at Plym-
outh, with members of other schools as
An invitation to attend has been ex-
tended to every member of the high
And so we ramble on —
To say that
Perhaps we're wrong but we think
Rosa had something to tell B. L. about
that Bridgewater game ! Was she in-
And why is Enzo so popular? Inquire
of Helen Pirani for further details.
Is it still "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy"?
"If we could be one hour with you to-
Bertha and her impersonations of
And very collegiate, but how artistic?
Green ski suit
Walter Winchell should take lessons
from one Dorothy we know !
Oh, fudge ! Guess who —
Is it still Judy?
Who's that nonchalant player? Yea,
If frankness is a virtue, Miss C. — !
A regular football-basketball player!
Ask Gus Sonnenberg for advice, Miss
Jus plain gum! Ooodles of it!
Ask Esther how the basketball feels —
she had a monopoly on it.
That broad expanse! Bertha will
Meet "A Posture"!
Edna Wallace Hopper — new style !
And it's all in the spirit of fun, with
no offense meant to anyone.
Cheer up, girls, for there'll be a new
editor next year.
Ruby L. Johnson
GIRLS' BASKETBALL TEAM
Left to Right: Seated, Teresa Govi, Dorothy Testoni, Hazel Clark, Leah Alberghini,
Captain; Anna O'Brien, Barbara Proll'etty
Left to Right: Standing, Mrs. Garvin, Coach; Charlotte Millner, Rosa DesLauriers, Ruth
Gardner, Helen Brewer, Bertha James, Eleanor Bradford, Augusta Cappella
GIRLS' HOCKEY TEAM
Left to Right: Seated, Hazel Clark, Dorothy Testoni, Ruby Johnson, Leah Alberghini,
Florence Donovan, Barbara Proll'etty
Left to Right: Standing, Alma Guidetti, Marion Zandi, Ruth Buttner, Bertha James, Mrs.
Garvin, Coach ; Ruth Gardner, Anna O'Brien, Teresa Govi, Augusta Cappella
J^OOKING over the year's achievements
in athletics, we find that Plymouth
High has enjoyed a very successful sea-
son in all sports to date.
The football team won the majority
of the games scheduled. Captain Walker,
Bussolari, Ferri, Fiocchi, Berg, Gellar,
Raymond, Tingley, Hughes, and Bon-
giovanni will be lost to the team through
With the closing v/histle of the Plym-
outh-Weymouth tussle, the scholastic
football career of Judy Walker, one of
the greatest all-round football players
in the history of our school, drew to
a close. Here's to you, Judy.
The basketball season, from the point
of attendance and finances, was the
most prosperous one in the history of
the game in our school. The team suf-
fered but two defeats in scheduled
games and came within an ace of reach-
inng the finals in the South Shore tourn-
Ferioli, Zaniboni, Walker, and co-
captains Bussolari and Bongiovanni
have played their last game for Plym-
outh High, but with Strassel, James,
Goodwin, Roncarati, Rogers, Cavicchi,
Ryan, and several other very promising
players returning, things do not look
exactly cloudy on the basketball horizon.
As this publication goes to press,
Plymouth High has vanquished Abing-
ton in both track and baseball.
The track team took a 53 to 33 ver-
dict with Walker and Bussolari starring
The baseball team, with Bussolari on
the mound, copped a 4 to 2 decision.
Bussolari yielded four hits while Fuller
was found for six. "Creeper" James
was the individual star both afield and
A ten-game schedule has been arrai-
gned for the tennis team which swings
into action May 11, with Hingham as
Fibst Row: Left to right, Tony Lawrence, Jack Guimares, Arthur Raggazini, Frank Mello,
Alonzo James, Kenneth Tingley
Shcond Row: Left to right, Thomas Roncarati, Arthur Hughes, Nando Bussolari, Geno Ferri,
Peter Gellar, Justin Walker, Captain; Ferdinand Fiocchi, Enzo Bongiovanni, Alden Ray-
mond, Milton Berg, Warren Sampson
Left TO Right: Standing, Andrew Guerra, Manager; Coach, Bagnall; George Costa, Andrew
Hasler, Vincent Neri, Gilhert Andrews, James Clark, Joseph Stel'aui, Olindo Borghesani,
Win. Ke.tch.en, Clemento Romano, Francis Lavache, Alonzo Canning, Ass'l. Manager
Left to Right: Standing, Leno Zaniboni, Bradford Martin, Dunham Rogers, Arthur Strassel,
Thomas Mitchell, Charles Ryan, Adolph Cavicchi, Thomas Roncorati, Mr. Smith
Left to Right: Sitting, Harold Clark, Ralph Goodwin, Justin Walker, Nando Bussolari,
Enzo Bongiovanni, Peter Ferioli, Alonzo James, John Guimares
MASSASOIT CHAPTER, NATIONAL HONOR SOCIETY
Left to Right: First Row, Josephine Montinari, Shirley Button, Dorothy Testoni, Evelyn
Johns, Jcannette Martin
Left to Right: Second Row, Iris Alhertini, Edith Halberg, Milton Berg, Miss Brown, Gilbert
Harlow, Loretta Smith, Marjorie Cassidy
Left to Right: Third Row, Victoria Brewer, Marjorie Belcher, Florence Armstrong, Ruth
Buttner, William Brewster, John Santos, Robert Martin, Ferdinand Fiocchi
VIVE LE FRANQAIS!
Voulez-vous aller en France un jour
avec nous? Aimeriez-vous visiter la
belle ville historique de Paris et voir
l'eglise majestueuse de Notre Dame?
Mais Paris n'est pas toute la France.
Alors, allons en Bretagne. Certaine-
ment vous voudriez parcourir les vieilles
provinces avec leurs scenes pittoresques
et leurs habitants interessants ? Ecou-
tons les histoires racontees par un pay-
san courbe. D'ici, allons en Alsace voir
les champs de bataille ou sont tombes
tant de soldats pendant la Grande
Guerre. II y a beaucoup de places a
visiter et beaucoup de choses a voir.
La France est un pays de souvenirs !
Pcuvez-vous comprendre ce que dit
cet vieil homme qui s'est habille d'un
veston brun, avec un grand chapeau,
brievement, en costume complete d'un
fermier champetre. II nous parle des
jours deja passes quand les rois ont
gouverne sa patrie. Tout cela vous sera
utile quand vous etudierez l'histoire
d'Europe — mais seulement si vous sa-
vez la langue f rancaise !
Tout le monde aime un savant,
la France. Voulez-vous nous joindre en
disant, "Vive le francais?".
Evelyn Johns, '33
le 13 mars, 1933.
Ma chere Marie:
Pardonnez-rnoi mon long silence. Je
voulais vous ecrire plus tot, mais la
Corse m'intrigue et je n' ai pas trouve
le temps. En ecrivant cette lettre, je
suis dans un train en route a Bastia.
Mais commencons au commencement.
Apres avoir quitte la France, mon pere
et moi, nous sommes venus a la Corse,
comme vous le savez. Vous ne pouvez
pas soupconner mon hilarite et grande
surprise quand nous sommes entres
dans le golfe d'Ajaccio. II est superbe —
bleu comme celui de Naples, mais plus
beau. Les He Sanguinaires qu'on voit en
entrant dans la baie sont un rouge in-
imaginable. Et au loin, on apercoit les
montagnes qui montent au ciel.
Ajaccio est une ville originalle et
differente. Cette ville est silente et
solemne comme Test toute la Corse.
Elle est frequentee par beaucoup d'
Anglais et de Norvegiens. Comme
vous le savez, sans doute, Ajaccio est
la ville ou est ne Napoleon. Si on ne le
sait pas, on l'apprendrait bientot apres
son arrivee dans cette ville parce qu'il y
a beaucoup de monuments, de statues
et de musees dedies au Napoleon. En
effet — tout est Napoleon !
Une des premieres places que j'ai
visitee etait la maison cle Napoleon.
C'est une veille maison et personne n'y
demeure. Toutes les chambres sont de-
meublees. II n'y a rien maintenant que
Aussitot que je suis arrivee en Corse,
je voulais apprendre de ses coutumes.
Je suis sure qu'ils vous interessent.
Premierement — ses superstitions. Les
insulaires croient qu'il y a des
vampires quiaiment a tourmenter les en-
fants. On peut se defendre de ces vam-
pires en portant une amulette. Les
Corses sont un peuple triste. Quand on
meurt, toute sa famille le deplore long-
temps. Si on est assassine, quelque
parent doit le venger.
Cela me rapelle la vendetta. Tout le
monde sait que la Corse est le retraite
des bandits. Le maquis, au centre de
l'ile, est un tres bon refuge pour ces
bandits et, malgre leurs efforts, les gen-
darmes francais ne peuvent pas les cap-
tiver. Les Corses, bien qu'il soient rudes
et grossiers, sont tres polis parce que
cette ile a beaucoup d'ecoles.
Toutes ces choses j'ai apprises quand
j'etais a Ajaccio. A cause de la chaleur
intense, tout le monde dort dans l'apres-
midi. C'est a dire, tons, sauf les etrang-
ers, comme moi, par example, qui
veulent voir la ville.
Apres deux jours remplis de nouvelles
experiences, mon pere et moi, nous
avons decide a aller a Bastia, la capitale
de la Corse. Et maintenant, comme nous
voyageons a toute vitesse vers Bastia
j'obtiens une vue fugitive des scenes
magnifiques de l'interieur.
Ne tardez pas trop a me donner de
Bien affecteusement a vous
Dorothy Testoni, '33
LE VOYAGE DE MONSIEUR
M. Perrichon, pere de famille,
Avec Henriette, sa seule fille,
Et sa femme, une dame d'esprit,
Pour la Mer de Glace est parti.
Deux jeunes hommes de bon naissance
Aussi sont alles — pas par chance.
Armand Desroches et Daniel Savary —
lis sont tombes amoureux de cette fille.
Par la France et la Suisse, aussi
Le deux jeunes hommes l'ont suivie.
A la Mer de Glace, M. Perrichon
Etait sauve par le bon garcon,
Le courageux ! Ah ! le brave Armand
Un homme de coeur, tres charmant !
(Mais l'autre a beaucoup de genie.)
M. Perrichon a sauve Savary! !
Apres des embarras avec douanier
Armand encore lui a aide.
Le pere de famille en trouble s'est mis
Avec un zouave du premier parti,
Un homme d'honneur, Commandant
(Quelle bonne heure! Le duel n'avait
Armand et Daniel veulent se marier
avec cette fille,
La seule enfant de la jolie famille!
La mere et Henriette aiment Armand
Mais le pere aime l'autre tant —
Heureusement le destin intervient
Pour finir cette piece enfin.
Avec une fin tres charmante
Henriette a pour mari, le cher Armand
Loretta Smith, '33
SON "BOY FRIEND" FRANCAIS
Vous plairait-il de voir votre corres-
pondant francais, surtout si vous etiez
une jeune fille americaine qui ecrivait a
un gargon frangais?
Peut-etre vous vous demandez — Une
fille americaine? Un garcon frangais?
Bien entendu, le professeur n'a pas
donne a Nancy Brown le nom d'un gar-
con, mais Miss Nancy avait demande a
son ami Tom le nom d'un de ses corres-
pondants francais. Voila pourquoi Miss
Nancy ecrivait a M. Andre Boulanger.
Mais pour continuer. C 'etait avec joie
que Miss Nancy lisait la lettre qu'elle
avait regue ce jour-meme d' Andre Bou-
langer, age de dix-neuf ans. M. Boulan-
ger allait entrer dans l'Universite de
Paris le septembre prochain, mais,
avant de commencer ses etudes a cette
universite celebre, il allait faire un voy-
age aux Etats-Unis. Dans sa lettre il
disait qu'il arriverait a New York le
10 juillet, sur 1' "Ile-de-France".
Avec impatience elle attendait les
vacances. Mais enfin les vacances
sont arrivees! Bientot c'etait le quinze
juillet. Ce matin-la le soleil rayonnait
sur le tapis de la chambre de Miss Nancy
. . . Les oiseux chantaient et tout avait
un air joyeux. C'etait le jour qu'Andre
devait arriver a Boston. D'ailleurs,
elle avait achete une jolie robe et des
nouveaux souliers. a deux heures elle
etait toute prete a aller a la gare. Selon
l'indicateur des chemins de fer, le train
arriverait a deux heures et demie, mais
Miss Nancy etait assez en avance.
A la gare il y avait assez de monde,
mais elle ne voyait personne parce
qu'elle avait les yeux fixes sur le quai
numero 11. Elle regardait sa montre
mille fois. Quelle joie ! Une coup de siffle
enfin! Le coeur de Miss Nancy battait.
Elle ne pouvait pas attendre une autre
Deja le train s'arretait. Les voy-
ageurs descendaient, l'un apres l'autre —
des hommes d'age moyen, une madame
avec deux enfants, quelques jeunes filles,
mais pas Andre! Que faire? Peut-etre
elle avait manque de le voir. Peut-etre
il n'est pas arrive, peut-etre —
Tout de suite une voix douce —
— Bon jour, ma cherie, comme il est
gentil de vous voir, ma correspondante
— Que veut dire — je ne com — excusez-
moi, balbutia Miss Nancy.
Devant elle etait un jeune homme de
grande taille et de belle mine, blond et
Iris Aibertini, '33
\ FOREIGN EXCHANGE j
'""What's yours like, Mary?"
"Oh, mine's a 'peach'! Tall, blond,
writes a beautiful hand — but he's only
fourteen! How about yours?"
"Oh, mine even signed his, 'Your
French boy friend' !"
Such is the astonishing conversation
often heard in that sixty seconds or so
before the French class. But it's really
harmless — two girls comparing their
new French correspondents.
Students taking second or third year
French are really very much interested
in their newly-found friends across the
sea. A pupil gives his ten cents to Miss
Carey, together with certain data con-
taining name, age, hobby, and so on.
After a few weeks he receives the name
and address of some student of English
in France. Each correspondent writes his
or her letter partly in English and part-
ly in French, so that the one to whom
the letter is sent tests not only his ability
to read and understand a foreign lan-
guage, but also his ability to correct mis-
takes made in his native language.
Below are extracts from some of the
most interesting letters already received
by Elizabeth Wood and Marian Zandi.
Villefranche le 29 Janvier, 1933.
Mon frere a beaucoup voyage, il est
alle dans presque tous les pays ; connait
un peu les Etats-Unis. Mon papa et
presque tous les francais ne sont pas
contents des americains au sujet des
dettes de querre; ils ne comprennent pas
que quand l'Amerique les a conseilles
et presque obliges de renoncer aux rep-
arations de l'Allemagne: que l'Ameri-
que vienne aujourd'hui reclamer toutes
les dettes que la France lui doit.
Marie Rose Bonnet
Paris, le 23 decembre, 1932.
A 19 ans je me suis engage par de-
vancement d'appel au 21 erne regiment
d'infanterie a Mayence en Allemagne,
car ces territoires etaient encore occu-
pes par 1'Armee du Rhin. J'y suis arrive
le 16 mai 1929 et en suis parti le 12
octobre, notre bataillon etant la prem-
iere unite pui fut ramenee en France, a
Chaumont (Haute Marne). J'aurais de
beaucoup prefere rester en Allemagne
jusqu'a la fin de mon service, car a
1'inverse de mes camarades je trouvais
le pays _ interessant pour lui-meme et
pour differents avantages que nous
avions sur les troupes stationnees en
France. A Chaumont je fus nomine
caporal et je dus faire 1'instruction des
"bleus" (des nouveaux soldats). Cette
ville n'est pas grande avec ses 15,000
habitants et n'offre aucun interet par-
ticulier en regard de Mayence dix fois
plus peuplee; mon frere partit a son
tour un an apres au 115 erne regiment
d'artillerie lourde a Castres dans le
midi de la France et est rentre il y a
Actuellement nous travaillons au
magasin, ou nous achetons, vendons,
raccommodons, classons, rangeons, em-
ballons, livrons des vieux livres et
de la musique. Nous respirons in-
evitablement beaucoup de poussieres
et pour nous changer d'air nous
faisons les rassortiments dans Paris
en bicyclette. C'est ce que nous
pref erons le plus ; se f aufiler rapidement
entre les files d'autos, passer de justesse
aux croisements, eviter les pietons in-
attentif s, pulsilanimes ou peureux ; c'est
vivre, faire un effort, se distraire de la
foule des rues, tandis que recoudre un
bouquin, raccomoder un morceau de
musique, ou la classer, servir une vieille
dame exigeante et marchandeuse et qui
en plus declasse en cinq minutes ce qu'il
nous faudrat plus d'une demi-heure a
remettre en ordre ; ce n'est vraiment pas
Vous allez me dire que dans tant de
livres, nous devons lire enormement.
Helas ce n'est pas que le desir m'en
manque car j'aime beaucoup lire. Je
lirai des heures entieres si je pouvais en
trouver le temps, mais impossible. Des
livres que j'ai choisi et mis dans mon
easier au fur et a mesure que je les trou-
vais, sont restes la depuis deja long-
temps, et je ne prevoie pas quand il me
sera possible et les commencer.
En attendant avec impatience votre
reponse je suis votre
C\F the many subjects which are being
discussed by the group of boys hik-
ing to Frog Pond one spring day, sub-
jects ranging from the Vasko case to the
possible reason why the forty-eight-year
old maid teacher at the high school had
bobbed her hair, Latin was now under-
going its ordeal.
"Latin," ventured good-looking John,
with the slightest suggestion of a sup-
pressed sneer, "I should never bother my
head over a thing as dead as that. As I
see it, Latin is an impenetrable moun-
tain of conjugations, declensions, and
vocabularies, and as dry as those
parched oak leaves along the road."
I wonder how many young people
hesitate to take Latin for any, or all, of
John's reasons? The usefulness of Latin
as a means of augmenting the mediocre
vocabulary of the average person, is
hardly debatable. Of course, one must
learn to conjugate and decline, but can
anything be accomplished without tools?
But for the last point, is Latin as je-
june as most people believe it to be?
Decidedly not! Are Caesar's descrip-
tions of the barbari.e Gauls, of his muti-
nous army, and the campaigns against
the Helvetians and Belgians, anything
but vivid and exciting? Has any for-
ensic scene aroused more interest_ and
sympathy than the picture of Cicero
giving vent to a burst of oratory in the
Senate and Forum, in defense of Pom-
pey and in indignation at Verres?
Caesar pleases the military-minded;
Cicero, the lawyer and statesman.
But what has Latin to offer the lover
of nature, of sports, those to whom a
modern novel is of compelling interest?
Indeed, Roman writers did not forget
them. Virgil gives as his offering to
these people, the "Aeneid."
In this work, the whispsering south
wind beckoning the sailors to the sea,
and the roaring of Mount Etna are
heard. One sees Mount Atlas encircled
by clouds, wearing a cloak of snow about
his shoulders and a beard of ice.
At the funeral games, you may be an
eager participant or spector of various
sports. You may be one of the oarsmen
On the "Chimaera" and witness the
throwing overboard of the helmsman
by the captain, Gyas, because the former
had been a coward when a lost moment
hleant the loss of the prize. The distri-
bution of prizes at the foot race will
hold your undivided attention because
of the controversy as to the winner,
after foul play. You will watch with
anxiety the boxing match between the
conceited Dares and the aged Entellus.
As for the addict to the modern novel,
what is more modern than the story of
Queen Dido's unrequited love for
Aeneas? He arrives in Africa where
Dido has built a kingdom, after fleeing
from Phoenicia. She falls in love with
Aeneas, who can not return her love
because circumstances compel him to
leave Africa so that he may set up a
Kingdom in Italy and there marry
Lavinia. Dido, forsaken and deeply
wounded by this love affair, commits
Aeneas reminds me of some persons
who possess much egotism, although, in
the story, he must follow the path the
fates have outlined for him.
Doesn't it seem to you that Latin of-
fers more than could be expected from
a language reputed to be "dead"?
Iris E. Albertini, '33
(from the "Aneid")
J)AME Humor, that terrible medium
through which homes and friend-
ships are often ruined, may be com-
pared to an ugly bird. Small at first,
she feeds on the names of men, never
dieting, and gains strength rapidly, un-
til, like a bird on the wing, she con-
ceals her head in a dark cloud. This
monster has as many watchful eyes as
feathers, and as many tongues and
listening ears! She hastens through
space under cover of the shades of night,
and takes her stand on a mountain top,
cr perhaps on the roof of a turret, and
is as often the bearer of lies as a mes-
senger of truth.
Nothing, nobody, is immune!
Ruby Johnson, '33
"ARMA VIRUMQUE CANO"
The atrium of a Roman home about
the year 40 B. C. It is poorly furn-
ished and is obviously not a habita-
tion of a family of wealth. The back-
ground is deeply shadowed — strange
forms are cast on the bare, sanded
A young man, Publius Vergilius, is
half-reclining on a stone couch cov-
ered with animal skins. Deep in
thought he is oblivious of his sur-
roundings. In a moment he speaks.
Vergil: The legions are leaving for a
new expedition tomorrow. I should
be going with them! My health, age
and standing qualify me. All my life
I've longed to seek new lands — scale
the Alps with a mighty army — sub-
due barbarians — plunder conquered
villages ! By Jove — I believe I will —
(He is interrupted by the abrupt en-
trance of plump young man, Horace. )
Horace: Greetings! Have you heard
Vergil: What news?
Horace: This very day Emperor
Augustus issued a proclamation de-
claring you royal historian. His first
order is for you to make the world
conscious of the glory of Rome. You
are to write a history of the Empire !
Vergil : Perhaps I should be pleased,
but Cornelia has refused to marry me
until I become a soldier and bring her
trophies from abroad. To write an
epic will take years — should I sacri-
fice my love, hopes, ambitions for a
title? Time will inspire someone to
write it far better than I could ! The
Emperor will understand — he will re-
Horace : Quitter ! Doesn't the great
Empire mean anything to you? Well,
I'm going — if you change your mind,
let me know. (He leaves, upper right)
Vergil: (Musing): It's an old story.
Even the lowest slave knows the story
of Romulus and Remus. I'll call on
Cornelia tonight and — (sharply)
Who's there? (An old woman with
straggling white hair falling over one
eye, her slight form clad in soiled
linen is bent by a sack held in her
arms. He addresses her as she ad-
vances from the back of the room)
Who are you? You look like the pic-
tures of the old Sybils but —
Sybil : I am the messenger of your an-
cestors' spirits. They worked very
hard to found Latium and now YOU
grumble because someone thinks they
ought to get a little credit for doing
Vergil : Yes, yes — but why should I
spend time on tiresome facts few will
read about? Even poetry is dead!
Hey! What are you doing? (Sybil
empties bag of leaves over him and
moves towards wings.) (Turning up
one of the leaves) Why, they're writ-
ten on! Wait a minute! Don't go! I
want to talk to you —
Sybil : I must. You have visitors. (Tall,
blond warrior strides in. He looks all
around and goes over to the couch.)
Vergil: Well, what do you want? Who
Warrior : I am looking for that un-
grateful, lazy wretch, Vergilius Maro.
Vergil: Ahem! Why?
Warrior : He accused me of being slow
— out-of-date. Do you know what I
did at your age ?
Vergil : No.
Warrior : I fled from the ruins of Troy
leading my son and carrying my
father on my back. Together with a
party of our friends we left for the
promised shores of Latium. The
horrors I witnessed — the havoc I was
forced to see — the destruction of my
native land ! In the burning wreck
I left — (Small, shrewish woman has
entered — interrupting) You left your
wife — his own wife, mind you — just
because he dreamed of my brother
Hector — he just wanted another wife
— some hussy who —
Aeneas : Creusa ! I looked —
Creusa : Yes, you did not
(Tall, stately Titan enters, beauti-
fully dressed — breaking in)
Aeneas : Dido !
You were looking for me, weren't
you, dear? Adventure — love — ro-
mance — a faded shrew could never
hold you — Aeneas, my pet — (A beau-
tiful brunette enters)
Your pet! Huh — it only took him a
year to get tired of you. He killed a
king to win my love — he wanted me
all the time — his Lavinia !
(Old man enters, leading a young
Aeneas : Father — Acestes
Old Man : You are wrong, all of you —
he left to make a home for me.
All : Wrong again, Anchises, you were
too old to live very long. What did a
month more or less matter?
Aeneas: Just a minute. You are all
mistaken I — (Sybil reappears, starts
to gather up the leaves. As she picks
them up, the characters disappear)
Vergil : Don't take them. I'll write it.
Sybil : Yes. You'll write it — and you'll
be the greatest poet Rome will ever
have, but one thing will happen — you
shall never complete your epic. Thus
will you be punished — (Disappears)
Vergil : Silly old woman — I must have
imagined it all. Still — it is a wonder-
ful idea. My scrolls — I must begin at
Est victor ! In R5mam cum gloria venit,
Sua gloria ab populis canebatur.
Est victor! dicunt, "Magnas nationes
Heros Rornae, dominus temporis; est
Est victor ! in suo pectore est magnus
Et ei laudCs cum superbia canebant.
Est victor ! vir, fortis et superbus
Heros Romae, dominus temporis, est
THE LAST CHORD
Oroheus, we call on thee to lead
This Symphony of '33.
Our sonata, of four parts composed,
Has been arranged for us,
The orchestra, our class ;
With string and wood-wind and the
Our deeds, our sorrows, joys and hopes,
In memory we softly play
The varied moods of our sonata ;
The Aspiration, our first year,
With hopes and dreams prepared us
For the second — that serious year
Of Meditation — sophistication !
Ah, the third, a year of Humor — the
Minuetto, dance, too soon gave way
To our last movement — the finale,
A vein of triumphant joyousness:
Ah, list, as now we play
The last chord of our Triumph —
Iris Albertini '33
WHO'D 'UV THUNK IT
^HAT to write?! How to begin—?
H'm — Let's see — "While jaunting
through the old town"— NO. NO, NO!
"Looking back through the years" — oh,
pshaw! Ignoring preliminaries, this is,
presumably, an Alumni Column, so
down to work and years. — Let's take
the years 1927 and '28.
Looking through the varied prophe-
cies of Karl Bittinger, of the Class of
1927, I find he was a little wrong, in
fact, quite wrong, and the imagination
that man (ahem!) had! — For instance,
there is Alice Clough, selling Clough's
Clinging Clothes (try to say it fast!).
She has been married for quite some
Show business, I've heard is bad —
even for leading men. Maybe that is
why "Bill" Green is seen about town so
much. He was to play leading man in
"The Passionate Prevaricator", form-
erly named "Prudence's Indiscretions."
Guess it didn't pass the censors. Any-
way, it was never released. In the same
picture, Alice Eldridge and Mary Hayes,
among others, were to be bathing beau-
ties. Miss Eldridge is teaching at Mt.
Pleasant School, while Mary Hayes is
expounding English to the "Freshies."
Alberto Emerson must have changed
his mind a bit. (humph! doesn't he
know that's a woman's privilege?) for
he's flying airplanes (one at a time) in
Florida — or at least that was the last
Arthur Davis must have grown tem-
peramental and said, "I tank I go home,
now" — or something, for he's no longer
in pictures but clerking in the First
National Stores. I guess D. Brown's
last scenario was too much for Arthur.
And if Daniel Brown is writing plays,
it's secondary to his training at art
school in the big city.
Doris Boles, another predicted bath-
ing beauty, must have "beautied" quite
a bit ; anyway, she got her man.
Elva Querze, slated to play opposite
Green, must have been a good leading
lady, for she's married, too.
Elizabeth Finney was to be another
bather, but found bathing others more
profitable, I guess. At any rate she
turned out to be a nurse.
Eride Poschi has no twins as yet,
but good times are coming and maybe
he'll be out of school, sometime — then
let's hope for wedding bells. In the
meantime, she's working in the Registry
Anna Raymond "rolled those mag-
netic lamps" once too often (and then
again, maybe not) and so she was
married. Her little girl is the cutest
Ellis Whiting is doing his running
for Jordan Marsh Company instead of
Charles Swift is in Springfield, Mario
Vandini is an ice-man, Louise Lodi's
working in Burbank's, William Downie
is a mail-carrier, and Warren Bruce
works at the Automotive Garage — and
that's all for today, ladies and gentle-
men, so far as the Class of 1927 is con-
cerned, at least.
Now for a bit of 1928 news : —
Phyllis Thorn was making a portrait
with Amedea Galvani as the model, but
I guess she's too busy at home to finish
it, or maybe the cat jumped into the
paint and spoiled it — anyway, no one
has ever seen it.
Olga Armstrong's Muscle Factory
must have lacked muscle because it went
"on the rocks" before it started. Olga,
jumped from the frying pan into the
fire — she was married, you know — or,
perhaps, you didn't.
If Vincent Bernagozzi really did build
over the whole block around Jordan's
Hardware Store, wouldn't you think
such a thing would have been notice-
able? His corner store must be pretty
small or else he rents it to Jordan's so
he can spend more profitable moments
with Jordan Marsh.
Again, the prophecy was wrong — but
this time it was Foster Sampson's fault
— Regolo Leonardi is not a member of
the Board of Selectmen, but a member
of the popular Board of Unemployed.
Adova Gambini is wise to keep with-
in her father's employ, but give her
time and find the right corner around
which prosperity is hiding and maybe
she'll have her own parlor — ice-cream
parlor, of course!
Kenneth Crowell isn't president of
the bank but maybe some day — if he's
a real good boy — he'll be president of
Mitchell-Thomas Company where he is
working as a clerk. We have heard that
big oaks from little acorns grow.
I don't believe Pauline Raymond's
"Learn While You Laugh" system got
far in the schools; but someone must
have liked it, for she got her pharmacist
and is living happily ever after —
Alfred Pimental didn't last long as
Pearl Axford's campaign manager, for
he is teaching — yes, I said teaching —
at good old P. H. And Pearl Axf ord did
get her own home, but as to being
governor — you'd better ask her. He'd
say no, anyway.
Margaret Peterson must have tired of
her School of Dance. At any rate, she up
and did it, too! What, you ask? She put
it over — got engaged, silly !
Helen Cohen and Caroline Rossi are
back from Hollywood. They didn't like
the people, or maybe they just didn't
photograph well — Caroline works at the
Old Colony Theatre and she was a P. G.
— but she says the weather's too nice
now. My guess is that she likes to sleep
mornings. Anyhow she isn't P. G'ing
Marion Douglass is not proprietress
of the "Wampum Inn", but of her own
home — maybe of her husband, too, I
don't know ; — Ribella Testoni is P. G'ing
and May Wood did get married. Frances
Shroeder also embarked on the matri-
monial venture, and her young son plays
in my backyard and he loves to take his
hat off. — And Bertha Mitchell has re-
mained true to her word — so far — and
is a bachelor maid.
Now, it really is time to say — "Au
revoir and pul-leasant dre-ums — until
the next tium when" —
Miriam Gifford, '33
MEBBE IT'S PERSONAL
QF course I'm "nerts," a prevarica-
tor, and I don't know what, but
here are your sins and secrets, your pet
fears and hates, and your loves (so help
Thinking a small, but very import-
ant part of his role in the operetta was
a bit ragged, Manzotti did a little
"practicing" (at least that's what those
concerned called it) in the wingf„ a few
nights before the performance. As a
witness to both performances I can read-
ily say that the "practice" really helped.
Bussolari, Ferri, Querze, and Fiocchi
will gladly relate their experiences of
Saturday, April 29, upon request.
Fore ! Dame Rumor has given me
every reason to believe that Mr. Fash
(you know, the fellow on the busy
street) has aspirations of some day be-
coming a member of the "Hole-in-One"
Did you know that Judy Walker does
his track training in the vicinity of
Park Avenue? Manager's orders — you
I'm still wondering what induced Elly
Johnson and Roger Clark to P. G. ?
Have you been observing Dot Testoni
and Elsie Ottani lately? Something "on
the make", I'd say.
Ask Tibbetts what became of the
flowers that were pinned on him the
night of the operetta.
There's no place like "Chacheeks
Pavilion." What do you say, Roncarati?
I can't believe it (would you believe
it) but it's true. Tote Raymond has it
(I don't mean that it but the other it)
so badly that he actually salts his coffee
and tries to drink hot dogs.
May I suggest that Lavache move in-
to 84 Court Street?
"Creeper" James, what you-all been
doing around 31 Seaview Street?
It's a pity that more people weren't
behind the scenes the night of the oper-
etta to see "Bailey's Show." Ask Mrs.
Buck or Miss Hendry.
Incidentally, what has become of
those charming gentlemen, Baron von
Snoop and the Unknown Reporter?
What would you do if someone threw
you out of a window (seven feet from
the ground) ? Don't tell me — go show
Another little suggestion — try getting
some sleep for a change, Mr. Davis.
AS OUR BOYS GO ON
"Zana" Romano, varsity center for
B. C. last season, received the distinc-
tion of being rated as one of the best
centers in the East. Good boy, "Zana."
"Ohiefy" Armstrong starred as a
member of the N. H. U. varsity basket-
Leno Lenzi was one of the out-
standing backs in the Bates- Yale foot-
ball upset. Leno, playing in Bates back-
field, was credited with the longest run
of the game.
"Sparky" Spath starred on the Dean
football and basketball varsities and is
at present a member of the undefeated
varsity baseball team.
Mrs. B's Little Boy
The editors wish to make acknowledg-
ment of and express appreciation for
the many papers and magazines which
we have received this year. We hope
that this relation with other schools will
continue through a long period of time.
DO YOU KNOW THAT:—
1. "The Pilgrim" receives exchanges
from as far northwest as Alaska, as far
south as Virginia, and from Plymouth,
England, and Athens, Greece?
2. The first school paper published by
the Port Jervis High School was "The
Orange County School Journal" in
3. The Literary Club at Weymouth
High School has been revived and is
continuing its help for students who are
potential college candidates?
4. The subscription price for "Sunny
Days", the magazine from The Ameri-
can College for Girls in Athens, Greece,
costs fifty drachmas a year? (Approxi-
mately $.28 in American money.)
5. More than a third of the students
enrolled in the Howard High School,
West Bridgewater, are taking the
straight commercial course?
6. The proceeds from the Senior
Class Play, "The Valiant" helped make
possible this issue of "The Pilgrim"?
Comments and Commendations
"The Periscope" , Carlisle High School
We enjoyed reading this well-planned
paper and particularly liked the poetry.
"The Echo", Canton High School
The literary department of your mag-
azine is most interesting. The Exchange
"The Chronicle", South Paris, Maine
We think that some poetry would im-
prove your magazine.
"The Blue Owl", Attleboro High
This is one of the most interesting
magazines that we receive. We always
enjoy "The Blue Owl."
"Abhis", Abington High Shool, Ab-
We found many laughs in the joke
"Little Red Schoolhouse", Athol High
We enjoyed reading "Parents Visit
Studyland". Why not try a few more
Excerpts from Exchanges
Miss Eldsley: "I wonder if I'll live to
be a hundred."
Mrs. Host : "Not if you remain twenty-
three much longer."
"Ferncliff Echo", Lee, Mass.
"Waiter, this soup is spoiled."
"Who told you?"
"A little swallow."
"The Orange Leaf", Orange, N. J.
Headlights and lightheads meet at
"The Climber", West Bridgewater
"He has two wooden legs. How can he
"I guess he just lumbers along."
"The Wampatuck", Braintree
By the "Mastermind"
Dear Mastermind :
I detest children ; what can I do to be
mean to them?
Dear Wuffy :
Establish a chain of "Children's Free
Saturday Night Baths."
Who wrote the lines, "Breathes there
a man with soul so dead ?"
Dear Nertzy :
Author unknown. It is rumored that
he was an individual foolish enough to
visit Mr. Fash during one of his mild
and mellow experiments.
P. S. If dissatisfied, consider the one
about the man who attended the Atlan-
tic City beauty contest and watched an
airplane loop-the-loop while the peach-
erinos trotted by.
Dear Mastermind :
I am a Sophomore boy and in love. It
is the first time in my life that I have
drunk from the fountain of love. I
would be deeply grateful to you for all
the advice you can give me concerning
the nobler sex.
Realizing the unseaworthiness of the
craft which you're in (and not being
a Dorothy Dix) I have compiled bits of
advice for you graciously given by sev-
eral eminent members of the class of
1933 (God bless them).
Henry Gilbert Harlow (President of
Senior Class) : Be broadminded.
Justin Emory Walker (Vice-President
of Senior Class) : Always true, but
Peter "Precious" Ferioli (Treasurer
of Senior Class) : Love her and leave her
unless you met her while she was in the
Joseph (Play Fiddle Play) Querze:
See me in person.
Warren Girard: If you have a car,
give her the air.
I personally never have anything to do
with girls whatsosever, to speak of, but
I once read in a book (never mind the
title) that some Prince of Galavanting
said : "Lie to a girl because she seldom
accepts the truth. Keep her until some-
thing better comes along."
Dear Mastermind :
What do you consider the greatest
folly committed by the American people
in the year 1932?
Their failure to elect Eddie Cantor
President of the United States.
Dear Mastermind :
Would you be so kind as to tell me
around just what corner prosperity is?
Dear Hicky :
I was told by a fellow, who knows a
fellow, who knows a lady, who has an
aunt who knows a man, who knows a
chorus girl, who knows my pal Winchell,
that Walter says that he will find that
corner as soon as someone puts a key-
hole in that vicinity. Sorry, Hicky, but
out of respect for my pal "Walla", I
think you'll have to wait.
Dear Mastermind :
Who has the most beautiful blue eyes
in P. H. S.?
I've looked into many deep, soulful,
beautiful, blue eyes (yes, I'm acquainted
with Lord Byron) but never have I
found a pair equal to those of "Cunning"
(The North Plymouth Tornado) Rag-
Dear Mastermind :
What do you consider the height of
Dear Wanna :
I consider the meeting of two eyes
through the same keyhole, the pinnacle
Dear Mastermind :
How did Dot Testoni get that scar
over her right eye?
Considering that Dot is a very close
friend (???) of mine, I suppose I really
shouldn't tell, but you have come unto
the Mastermind and he who asketh shall
receive an answer.
Several years ago, dear little Dot (I
think she was a sixteenth of an inch
shorter then) was simply "that way"
about a dashing young fellow whose
name I choose to withhold for divers
reasons. Being shy and retiring even in
those days, Dot took it upon herself one
day to run about the schoolyard shout-
ing at the top of her lungs that Gable
(we'll have to call him something for the
story's sake) was her "fella".
Now Gable, possessing more of the
Tracey blood (take your pick, either Lee
or Spencer) than Gable, decided that
what the girl needed was a "bat'n'a
head". So picking up a pebble about the
size of a pigeon's egg, he, with form and
control that would have made Lefty
Grove green with envy, "brained" Dot
with said pebble.
That is the authentic story of Dot's
ccar. Someday I will tell you the story
of Tid Beever's scar.
Where was Moses
when the lights
0. Howe Dumm
Parked at Plymouth Beach.
Dear Mastermind :
Whom do you consider the most prom-
ising member of the class of 1933?
Dear Meeme :
Ask Kenneth Tingley and find out
why he is.
Dear Mastermind :
After listening to Bussolari's scintil-
lating (??) editorial entitled, "Let's
Play Hookey" (yes, hookey was mis-
spelled) I thought that there might be
a little more behind the whole affair
than appears on the surface. Can you
enlighten me upon this subject?
You are right. There is more behind
this escapade than appears on the sur-
face. Let me say that I, the Master-
mind, am well qualified to tell you that
the only reason that Bussolari did not
join the "Hole-In-One" fraternity is
that a set of left-handed golf clubs could
not be located.
I am terribly bored by everything.
Can you tell me how and where to find
real adventure and trouble?
Dear Porky :
Try joining either some, or all, (Lord
help you if you do) of these noble organ-
izations: the "Oriole A. C", "South
Shore Recreation Association", and the
exclusive "Hole-In-One" fraternity.
For further information see Maxie
Fiocchi or some of the "boys".
Left to Right: Standing. Howard Sherman, Robert Martin, George Riddell, Geno Ferri
Seated : Alvin Borgeson, Lorftta Smith
S S S 3 S S S 3 3
3 3 S 3 3 33SSSS
S3S S3 3
qSSSS SSS S3
*" 5 3 S S 3 3
3 39SSSSSS3 33D
SSS3 3 3SSSS3SSS3S
,S3 SSS 2SS3SSS3SSS3
S 3 3 S S S S
SSS S SSS S3SR3SSS33SR
SSSSSSS 3 SSS SSSSSSSSSS
3 3u ° s S5S3SSS3SSSS33SSS
3 SSSSSSSS 3SSS3S3
3 S S S S S 3 3 S S S 3 S S
3 | SSS SSSSSSSS 3
S3 S S S 3 S
S =! .
3SS3SS 53S g'3S33§3 SS
3 S ~ , ~ 3 J 3 S g,:>
S 3^3° ti c«->3S
S' S 3 s 3 - 3.3 s SS SiS S S
'■■■■■'■■ s s s s s s s s s s s •>.--;■• < -■■'■-/■ ssssssss:
-;:--:.-;.-: -v3ss sss-;--..--; -;.-;.-: '■*-;:-:: ssss s
s s s s s
s s ssss
!S ssss a
SSs S <
; S S S S s S s
s ssss &
SSS 3 SSSS
, S 3SS
" J - S „
s§S3:j s s s ^
s sssssi s sss„„ .
13 g b 3 S 3 3 5
_^ s SSsssssSSSSSSSS
^ S SSSSSSSS S3SSSSSSS
s SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSS
SS3SSSSSSSSSS"SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS0 SSSSSS SSSSSS SSS
• ; 3 s S S S
■ S 3S SS SS3SSSSSSSE 33 SSS SSSSSSS
SSSSSSSSSSSS 3 ssss r. ssssssss
Victoria Brewer, '33
Not So Funny!
Senior: "Why is an empty purse always the
Freshman: "Well, why is an empty purse
always the same?"
Senior: "Because you can't see any change
Sort of Shell Game
"Well, Ted, what are you doing around this
part of the country?"
"Oh, just getting the lay of the land."
"A sort of business scout?"
"No, an egg collector."
And Anyway, What's a Book or Two
Freshie: "Say, mister, hold these books a
Principal: "Little boy, don't you know I am
principal of this school?"
Freshie: "Oh! That's all right, you look
Knowledge Is Power
Tommy was fond of squeezing tooth paste
out of his shiny new tube. His mother, finding
it necessary to limit the amount to the purpose
in view, warned him one morning not to take
"How much may I take?" asked Tommy.
"Oh, a little bit, about the size of a bean."
Tommy gave the tube a tremendous pinch
and out shot a long ribbon of paste.
"Tommy!" exclaimed his mother. "Do you
wish to be punished? Is that the size of a
"Sure. Mom," said Tommy. "This is a string
If you go around handling people without
gloves, it is only a matter of time before you
tackle a live wire.
Teacher: "If you subtract 14 from 116,
what's the difference?"
Johnny: "Yeah, I think it's a lot of foolish-
"Tommy, isn't it rather extravagant to eat
both butter and jam on your bread at the same
time ? "
"Oh, no, Mother. It's economy. You see the
same piece of bread does for both."
Truth Above All
Boy: "No, Mister, I don't want to sell this
Angler: "Well, just let me measure him so
that I can truly say how big the trout was that
got away from me."
He: "When I woke up this morning, I found
all the bedclothes wound tightly around me."
She: "My, you must have slept like a top."
Sins of His Father
Ping: "They say stupidity can be inherited."
Pong: "That's no way to talk about your
It Only Goes to Show
"Lady," said the beggar, "could you gimme
a quarter to get where me family is ? "
"Certainly, my poor man," she replied,
"here's a quarter. Where is your family?"
And as he edged away he answered, "At
She Wouldn't Flinch
He: "What would you do if I kissed you?"
She: "I never meet an emergency before it
He: "And what if one arose?"
She: "I'd meet it face to face."
Simple, Isn't It?
Motor Cop (to professor of mathematics) :
"So you saw the accident, sir. What was the
number of the car that knocked this man
down ? "
Professor: "I am afraid I've forgotten it.
But I remember noticing that if it were mul-
tiplied by fifty, the cube root of the product
would be equal to the sum of the digits re-
SENIORS, ARE YOU READY?
Of course you are all looking forward to graduation.
This is the occasion above all others when you must look your best.
Come in and visit us.
Let us show you our exceptionally fine offerings in
clothing and furnishings especially selected
for graduation wear.
You will find them styled to the minute and
PURITAN CLOTHING COMPANY
'The Style Store of Plymouth"
56 Main Street
M. D. Costa's Fruit Store
A. J. VECCHI, Prop.
"The Home of Good Fruit"
40 Court Street Tel. 669
JOHN E. JORDAN CO.
Established Since 1825
"Trade Here with Confidence"
Hardware, Paints, Plumbing, Heating,
and Sheet Metal Work
W. L. MERRILL, M. D.
DR. L. B. HAYDEN, M. D.
DR. E. HAROLD DONOVAN
When There Is Better Work
Done, We Will Do It
JOHN H. GOVI
Main St., Plymouth
PLYMOUTH BAKING CO.
Bread, Pies, and Cakes
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL
20 Market Street
Transparent Water Colors
India Ink, black and colors
Brushes and Outfit Boxes
Oil and Water Colors
A. S. BURBANK
Pilgrim Book and Art Shop
SCHOOL OF ENGINEERING
In co-operation with engineer-
ing firms, offers curricula leading
to the Bachelor of Science degree
in the following branches of en-
SCHOOL OF BUSINESS
Co-operating with business
firms, offers courses leading to
the degree of Bachelor of Science
in the following fields of business:
Banking and Finance
The Co-operative Plan of training enables the student to combine
theory with two years of practice and makes it possible for him to
earn his tuition and a part of his other school expenses.
For catalog or any further information write to:
MILTON J. SCHLAGENHAUF, Director of Admissions
prepares tor sales, credit, collec-
tion, accounting, junior execu-
tive, secretarial, and other
business and office positions.
Individual attention. College
grade instruction. Separate
courses for men and women.
Previous commercial training
not required for entrance.
The past school year: Graduating
class, Boston, 421; Lynn, 145.
88 different universities and col-
leges in attendance. Employment
calls (Boston and Lynn) total
1208; positions filled, 774.
SUMMER sessions begin JULY 3.
FALL sessions begin SEPTEMBER 5.
Catalogue on request.
156 STUART STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
^^^^•^^•^^■^^■^^■^^^^-^^.^^\^^.^^^^^^-^^.^^,^-.^^s^^s^- a^ -.*■ ■ ^ -.i - .*■ .^ ^ ^- .» ^ ^ ^ ■ .» - ^. i ^ i ^ ^ ^ 'fc ■%%.'■%. ^W" ■%.%.■%. -V ^. "^. ^. fc "V. -W %.%. *^. ■%. %.
HIGH SCHOOL BOYS TAKE NOTICE
If your Suits, Hats, Shirts and Ties
Are not becoming to you,
You ought to "becoming" to us
MORSE and SHERMAN STORE
WM. J. SHARKEY
j graduation Photographs
1 That Satisfy
\ JARED GARDNER
| Tel. 9992-M Plymouth
I BENJAMIN D. LORING
1 DIAMONDS - WATCHES -
j JEWELRY - SILVERWARE
STEVENS THE FLORIST
! GIFTS AND CLOCKS I
I Fine Repairing a Specialty
Flowers for Graduation
' 28 Main Street Plymouth, Mass.
| H. A. BRADFORD
' 1 Warren Avenue
| Distributor for
\ H. P. Hood & Sons
Put a few drops on your handker-
chief and inhale for HEAD COLDS
j S. S. Pierce Specialties
I Birdseye Frosted Foods
| Tel. 1298-W
BEMIS DRUG CO.
\ Compliments of
Bring Your Sick Shoes
| DR. A. L. DOUGLAS
We Guarantee Our Work
j Compliments of
1 GRAY THE CLEANER
62 Court Street Tel. 951
1 (§15 (Kolottg Kjamt&rij
| of Pi
DR. J. F. TAYLOR
BLISS HARDWARE CO., Inc.
Plumbing Sheet Metal Work
Oil Burning Equipments
One Price Ladies' Shoe Dept.
Men's Shoes £2.95-^3.95-^4.95
DESIGNERS AND MANUFACTURERS
SCHOOL AND COLLEGE JEWELRY,
CUPS, MEDALS AND TROPHIES
Jewelers to Plymouth High School
H. E. SULLIVAN
New England Representative
FRANK L. BAILEY
Optometrist and Optician
17 Court St.
Russell Bldg., Plymouth
ON THE RADIO
Enna Jettick Shoes for Ladies
Franklin Shoes for Men
EDDIE'S SHOE SYSTEM
18 Main Street
Edward Hand, Mgr.
W. N. SNOW &, SON
FURNITURE, RUGS, SHADES
7-9 Town Square Plymouth, Mass.
MAYFLOWER DYE HOUSE
Next to Park Theatre
Cleansing — Dyeing — Pressing
Phone 1240— Work Called For and Delivered
Members of P. H. S. faculty re-
maining in Plymouth for the summer
are prepared to tutor in many high
Call Mr. Wayne M. Shipman, Prin-
cipal, for further information.
ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER
PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS.
Be Your Servant
ELECTRIC LIGHT CO.
"The Home of Service"
(tafia of 1333